Acedia: Depression of the Soul
by Kuroyuki-Kokuyoku
Summary: "Do you want me to get you an ice pack or some painkillers?" Gargouille looked at them with a straight face. "I want to die." Hadrain sighed. "Why do the people I talk to always order off menu?" (It's back! I present to you the reboot of Acedia! Have fun reading!)
1. Runaway I

**HIYO, I'M BAAAAAAACCCCKKKK~!**

 **This is a revised version of the original Acedia. To be honest, after rereading my fic, I've found myself cringing at some parts because of not only how horrible I've portrayed the characters. The whole storyline was rushed, and don't get me started on the character interactions and portrayals. Things just...didn't sit right to leave it as it is. I honestly felt like I had just taken Hadrian and turned him into a Mary-Sue archetype in the world of KHR. That was my mistake. Instead of allowing the plot to affect Hadrian, he affected the plot. The narrative shouldn't revolve solely on him and how important he is to furthering the story.**

 **Anyways with that little rant out of the way, I hope you all enjoy this new version. And remember, please don't hesitate to review. I would love to hear about your thoughts on the reboot, and feel free to point out any inconsistencies you feel I need to fix. Thank you so much for your love and support, everyone~!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own nor claim to own anything from the franchises, Katekyo Hitman Reborn and Harry Potter.**

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Chapter 1: Runaway I

One year. Just one year. Just one calm, peaceful year where the most he had to worry about was his infatuation for Cho rather than making sure he stayed alive long enough to take this year's final exams. Was that too much to ask? Evidently, the Wizarding World thought it was.

 _HARRY POTTER!_

The moment his name came out of the Goblet of Fire, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Harry knew that his fate was sealed. Bad enough that he was forced to participate as the Fourth Triwizard Tournament Champion. Surely, things couldn't get any worse? Once again, his thoughts were proven wrong the moment Harry set foot in his dorm.

"…So, how'd you do it?" Ron stiffly asked Harry once they made it to their dorm. His cold, blue eyes locked onto Harry's. The redhead gave the other boy a glare he normally reserved for Slytherins.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked as he slowly got ready for bed.

The taller teen gave him an ugly scowl. "I mean, how'd you trick the Goblet? Was it the Invisibility Cloak? Did you get Hermione to teach you a new Spell from the Restricted Section? Or maybe you bribed a Seventh Year? What'd you do to sneak your way into the Tournament?"

"But I didn't _do_ anything! Someone else planted my name in the Goblet without me knowing! You should know! You were always there! The only times you weren't with me were whenever I went to use _the loo_!" Harry protested.

Ron scoffed at Harry's protests. "Yeah right. So it's not enough for you to just be the almighty Boy-Who-Lived, eh? You heard Dumbledore. Eternal glory and a 1000 Galleons reward. Who wouldn't want any of that?" The red-haired teen bitterly spat out.

" _Me!_ I don't want any part of the Tournament!" The shorter wizard began pleading to the redhead helplessly as he tried to get Ron to listen, "Ron! Listen to me! I _don't_ _want_ to be in the tournament! People have died in the Tasks, so someone's using the Tournament as an excuse to get me kil-"

" _Save it!_ I don't want to hear anything else, you traitor." Ron interrupted his former friend with a disgusted look. "I should've seen this coming! After all, you're always putting me and 'Mione in danger in all our adventures. But that's good, right? The bigger the danger, the more attention you'll get from everyone and the more you'll get off of almost dying. Even better if there were more lives are on the line. I've put up with it 'cause you're my best mate, and it was a good ride while it lasted. But now I'm sick and tired of it. I never minded you dragging me into your messes, but this time, you've crossed the line. You've betrayed me, Harry. I'm done with you! Piss off, you self-centered, little _freak_!" Ron ranted at Harry. The redhead then turned his back on the other boy and threw himself on his bed with a loud thump, completely ignoring the implications of what had just happened between them.

What he had just done was something he could never take back.

Meanwhile, Harry's world had completely shattered. Ron's cruel declaration had hurt him deeply in a way that he had never felt before. The young wizard felt like he was either drowning, slowly dying from a lack of air, or perhaps a mixture of both. He couldn't really tell, but his chest felt so painfully cold, it was like being stabbed through the chest by an ice-cold blade.

But just when the suffocating feeling was about to overwhelm his senses, he felt something break in his mind. As if he had spent his whole life wearing a pair of foggy glasses and just realized that all he needed was to clean the lens in order to see properly, for the first time, the Boy-Who-Lived started thinking with a clarity that he never knew he had been missing.

The more he thought about it, the more he felt like he was being smothered to death.

"Um…Harry? Are you okay?" The sound of Neville's concerned voice interrupted his thoughts.

Snapping back to reality, Harry merely mumbled a confirmation. Ignoring everything else after that, the young Wizard went towards his bed and climbed under the covers. "…I see… so that's how all of you feel...I should have seen it coming..." the black-haired teen muttered mostly to himself.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

By midnight, almost everyone in the room was asleep, but Neville Longbottom, for the life of him, just couldn't. For some reason, he couldn't shake off a feeling of uneasiness. A part of him wanted to go and comfort Harry after that vicious row with Ron, but a larger part of him whispered in his ear telling him to give the other boy his space. Reluctantly, he obeyed his intuition and left Harry alone.

Up in the Gryffindor Tower Sixth-Year dormitories, Fred and George Weasley briefly paused their late-night experiments and frowned in unison. Their big brother instincts told them that Ron had done something incredibly stupid again. Normally, they would simply brush it off as it was typically minor enough to be resolved in no time. However, they had a feeling that their younger brother must have really fucked up this time around. Yet, oddly enough, they couldn't bring themselves to feel the tiniest bit of sympathy towards their youngest brother.

High above inside the Ravenclaw Tower, Luna Lovegood felt a sense of apprehension settle within the very depths of her being. Whipping her head around, she stared through the walls in the general direction of the Gryffindor Tower. What had happened that made her Ruler so distressed?

Deep within the depths of the Slytherin Dungeons, Draco Malfoy felt restless. Something was going to happen, but what? Out of nowhere, he felt the urge to punch someone in the nose. For a moment, he fantasized doing just that to Weasley, but he quickly suppressed said urge. A Malfoy should not lower himself to such a barbaric method of retaliation. Tired of waiting around for sleep that would never come, he took out a book on Alchemy and continued reading where he left off.

None of aforementioned teens got a wink of rest that night.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

The next morning found a dorm room completely devoid of the presence of Harry Potter. His bed was neatly made as though the fourteen-year-old boy had never slept in it. All of his belongings, including Hedwig's cage, were gone. The only thing left behind was the splintered remains of a holly and Phoenix feather wand core, piled neatly on top of his pillow. When questioned, not a single person had heard or seen anyone leave the Gryffindor Tower, let alone a lone teenaged Wizard.

Initially, the Hogwarts faculty voiced their concerns but otherwise didn't do anything, rationalizing that Harry would eventually be found sooner or later once he'd had enough of his alone time. Then, when an entire week had passed without a single trace of the young Wizard, panic soon erupted. Everyone began scouring every nook and cranny in Hogwarts for Harry. They even combed through Hogsmeade and the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest just to be safe. After a few days, they gave up and decided to leave the matter alone. The boy was not unlike a cat, coming and going from the public eye as he pleased. After all, where else could Harry Potter go? He was magically bound to participate in the Triwizard Tournament under the threat of losing his Magic, and it's not like an underaged and untrained Wizard could travel very far from the castle.

As the date of the First Task drew closer and closer, the Hogwarts professors grew more and more anxious with every passing day that Harry Potter remained absent from his classes. Rumors and speculations spread rapidly as Rita Skeeter eagerly churned out article after article about the boy's possible whereabouts as well as capitalizing on any juicy rumors surrounding the elusive Boy-Who-Lived.

Hermione Granger would frequently complain about how her "friend" was busy sulking somewhere after a "petty spat". When asked about how she felt about Harry's disappearance, she would complain about Harry's "irresponsibility" over not taking his education seriously. Since Harry's disappearance, the young Witch seemed to have gotten even more overbearing, especially when it came to class assignments and school rules. In one notable instance, the Fourth-Year caused a First Year to have a panic attack after she viciously berated the younger student for wearing the uniform of the opposite gender.

Ronald Weasley, on the other hand, would boast to anyone who would listen about how he wasn't surprised that his "best mate" would pull such a stunt. After all, Harry had always been a "coward", and if it wasn't for him, Harry Potter wouldn't have made it out alive in any of their misadventures. Needless to say, the red-haired Wizard took to his new fame like he would to an entire roast pig. Details were embellished, facts were exaggerated, and Harry's actions were cut out, replaced, or even glossed over entirely in favor of Ron's "superior" accomplishments.

On November thirtieth, the dreaded First Task finally began. However, there was still no sign of the Fourth Champion. No need to worry, everyone had thought at the time. There was still plenty of time. As long as the boy showed up for the Tournament, it didn't matter how late he was. After all, he could always go last. However, Harry Potter never appeared after all three of the true Triwizard Champions had their turn, so the judges decided to give Harry Potter no points for not participating when it was his time. Everyone then decided to wait patiently for the boy to finally come out of wherever he had been hiding so they could give him the disappointing news (and heap several detentions for his childish tantrum).

So they waited. And waited. And waited. And waited...

They waited until the sun went down. By then, most of the spectators had already gone home. Once midnight struck, the First Task had officially ended... _yet there wasn't a single sign of Harry James Potter anywhere_.

Where was he?! Where was their Boy-Who-Lived?! Chaos ensued over the teenaged wizard's wellbeing. In order to placate the public in some way, Minister Cornelius Fudge (at the insistence of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore) ordered a nationwide manhunt hoping to locate their Savior and bring him under the custody of the Ministry of Magic for his own safety.

Even Dumbledore couldn't afford to do nothing. Shortly after the end of the First Task, he reactivated the previously disbanded Order of the Phoenix in the hopes that they would be the one to locate Harry first before the Ministry and/or Death Eaters sink their claws into the young impressionable Wizard. He had many members of the old guard return as well as several new members join in an effort to help find his missing Chosen One.

The common (and desperate) consensus was that it wasn't too late. If they could locate Harry Potter before the end of the Triwizard Tournament, there was a chance that he'd still have his Magic once they get the boy to participate in one of the remaining tasks. But the days passed without a single lead on Harry Potter's location, then weeks, then months. The Yule Ball came and went as did the Second Task until finally, the Third Task ended, bringing an end to the Triwizard Tournament with Cedric Diggory earning a bittersweet victory for Hufflepuff and Hogwarts.

Throughout it all, the Wizarding World's Boy-Who-Lived remained MIA.

Eventually, after so many unsuccessful searches, the Aurors were forced to give up the search. It was presumed that Harry Potter would had long since perished by now. After all, a Wizard losing his Magic was a fate worse than death. Even if the boy had miraculously survived, there was no way a barely-trained Hogwarts student could possibly survive on his own without his Magical Core. All around the United Kingdom and parts of Western Europe, Witches and Wizards mourned the loss of their Boy-Who-Lived. In memory of their precious Savior, a headstone was erected beside his parents' grave in Godric's Hollow.

The British Wizarding World would never the same.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

Albus Dumbledore was becoming a desperate man. All of his plans for Harry were in complete ruins. Where had he gone wrong? He knew that this year wouldn't be easy for Harry, and it was supposed to…

The upcoming Wizarding War needed a strong warrior to fight then die for their sakes.

The Triwizard Tournament was meant to kill two owls with one Spell: forcing Harry to realize his importance in the war and giving Tom an opportunity to rise again. In addition, this year was also meant to further tie the bonds between Harry and his "best friends," thus allowing Albus to tighten his control over the boy's destiny.

What he didn't factor in, however, was Harry's spontaneous impulse to run away. It was a mistake that cost Albus his most important chess piece. Albus had anticipated that Ronald's jealousy would get the better of him, and he had been counting on it. Briefly losing Harry's trust would make Ron become less complacent in keeping track of the boy's activities. In addition, the short break would also make Hermione desperate to keep the status quo in their dynamic: Harry being completely dependent on his "friends" and his "friends" benefiting from his "friendship" with them in exchange. As a result, their co-dependency towards each other would be heightened, making it easier for Albus to manipulate their actions through the exploitation of their "bond".

After all, absence makes the heart grow fonder, yet it also makes people very susceptible to certain influences.

However, those plans began crumbling to pieces the morning after the selection of the Champions. All of Albus's efforts in grooming Harry into becoming the necessary martyr for the future of the Wizarding World had gone to waste.

Unfortunately, the loss of Harry also lost him support from key members in the Order of the Phoenix: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, William Weasley, and surprisingly enough, Severus Snape (though to be fair, the Potions Master had made his true allegiance clear from the very beginning. What loyalty he had towards Albus only held so long as he could guarantee the safety of Lily's son, which was already a moot point).

In addition, his relationship with the remaining members and allies of the Order were heavily strained at best, outright distrust at worst. Kingsley Shacklebolt, Alastor Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, Amelia Bones, and Augusta Longbottom were only willing to cooperate, albeit with a strong dose of suspicion and wariness. They had joined his organization because they foresaw that no one else was willing to do anything to fight against the Dark.

Thankfully, there was a silver lining in all of this. The Prophecy was still active. Other than Harry Potter, there was only one other boy that night who could match the description of the Chosen One. This revelation could only mean that Neville Longbottom had actually been the real Chosen One all along…

(...Or perhaps Harry was still alive after all, but Albus quickly discarded that notion. The boy's survival was impossible since what little information he was able to access from the Goblins confirmed that Harry James Potter no longer existed in this world. In other words, Harry was truly dead. The Goblins would honor-bound to never lie about the status of their clients, so any hopes on creating an event surrounding the Boy-Who-Lived making a comeback died a disappointing death as soon as he received the news.)

Left with no other choice, Albus has to resort to his contingency plans for Neville. With the way the Longbottom boy currently was, it would take some work. Should all go well, then Neville's efforts and sacrifices would fuel the Greater Good for the Wizarding World for the next few decades, maybe even centuries.

The last thing the Wizarding World needs is to experience the same horrific experiences Albus had witnessed during the First Wizarding War. No matter what, Albus would not let a Dark Lord succeed in conquering all of the Wizarding World. He had defeated Grindelwald, and he'll do the same to Voldemort, this time, through the Prophecy's Chosen One.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

About two thousand miles away, Hadrian Temperanza's plane entered the Lamezia Terma International Airport. Humming cheerfully, the young teen remained blissfully ignorant of the chaos he left behind.

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 **AN: For my readers, both new and old, if you're wondering what changes I made or will make in comparison to the previous version, then please read on.**

 **In this chapter, I not only tweaked the conversation between Ron and Harry but also added a few more scenes, specifically the ones featuring Neville, the twins, Luna, and Draco. Since most of you are already aware that my version of Harry is a Cloudy-Sky, I figured I'd reveal who his future Guardians will be earlier this time. I also added Dumbledore's POV so I can establish him as an unapologetic Manipulative!Dumbledore.**

 **So a few major changes in the overarching story, particularly how I've portrayed Hadrian in the original. I meant to write out Hadrian's character as someone who no longer allows himself to be shackled by anything. His gender identity is symbolic of not conforming to anyone's standards but his own (it's also not just the whole male/female binary but also right vs. wrong, Light vs. Dark, Wizard vs. Muggle, etc.). At the time, I thought that writing him as agender might convey that and I still feel that it should. But looking back, there was no self-discovery, no build-up, no progression. It's like he just woke up one day and realized that "Hey, screw struggling to figure out who I am! I don't identify with any gender!" NO! Just no! I was doing a disservice to agender people by portraying him that way. (Thank you for those who called me out on the awkward portrayal. You have no idea how much those reviews have helped me.)**

 **Then we have his friendship with Lussuria. SWEET MOTHER OF PRIMO! I missed out on a golden opportunity to develop Hadrian's sexuality and gender identity through his interactions with Luss! They had been friends for months prior to the Varia's first appearance. MONTHS! And what did I have them do during that sizable time period? Nothing. I just glossed it over like it didn't mean anything when it should've been** _ **something**_ **.**

 **Another thing I've changed about Hadrian is his personality. Prepare yourself for SassyasFuck!Hadrian because the previous version was a little too "try hard" and creatively restrictive.**

 **I hope the beginning of what I call the Runaway Arc was entertaining. The chapters leading up to the Varia Arc will be longer and will have more meat on them. Things will be slow from now on, but this is me taking the time to better develop my story as well as getting my life together IRL.**

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Omake I: The Inheritance Scene No One Asked For

In Gringotts, if a client wanted to view any updates on their economic status in the Wizarding World, they were required to submit a blood sample to not only verify their identity but also to reveal any other additional concerns that needed to be addressed. The amount of blood needed varied depending on the amount of information made available.

One day, a young Wizard named Harry James Potter snuck out of Hogwarts in the dead of night and made his way to Gringotts. But when he requested to check out his inheritance, nobody expected the following to occur the way it did.

"How long do I have to bleed?" Harry complained as he held his gushing hand over the parchment.

"Until the words stop appearing," Griphook snapped, brushing the growing length of parchment off of his desk. The massive heap tumbled down onto the floor and slowly began to cover the carpet.

"I've already been at this for the last half hour. I don't think it's healthy for me to lose this much blood." The parchment was enchanted to soak up the client's blood and use the traces of Magic in the "ink" to churn out the necessary information, expanding as it goes. It could map out names, financial statements, family history, etc. For Griphook's current client, Harry had _a lot_ of information to offer.

"Fine," Griphook growled as he reached in his desk drawer, pulled out a vial containing a crimson colored liquid, and slammed it down in front of Harry. "Here's a Blood Replenishing Potion. I'll deduct the cost from one of your Vaults. Seeing as that payment is the last thing you'll ever be worried about for the rest of your life considering your inheritance," he dryly commented, eyeing the still growing pile of parchment. The pile was up to Harry's knees at this point.

"You know what would be bloody fantastic right now? If I could _stop inheriting_ ," Harry retorted, gesturing wildly with his free hand. "Look at this parchment! There's enough parchment to wallpaper every room in Gringotts. I don't even know _any of these people_! Why do some of these names look like they came out of a fanfiction website?!"

In the end, it took a total of forty-four hours, six Blood Replenishing Potions, and three rooms before the parchment finally stopped growing. Once it did, Harry all but begged Griphook on his hands and knees to help him sort out his finances.

The young Wizard's situation allowed the Goblin to invoke Gringotts's Gary Stu Clause, which not only piled all of the world's wealth into a pocket dimension called the Gate of Babylon but also gave Hary an infinite amount of liberties to do whatever the hell he wanted whenever the hell he wanted.

The first thing Harry did with his newfound freedom was to go traveling.

He started with being escorted to Japan by the Armed Detective Agency. Later, he accidentally enrolled himself at the Ouran Elite Private Academy, ended up amassing a harem of hot Youkai girls, and gaining a dragon maid wife. Upon graduation, he became known as the King of Games, Kira, and the Yonjyuuyondaime (Forty-fourth) Hokage. Then, using his newfound Shinigami and Magi powers, he, his Pokemon slaves, and Digimon cannon fodder traveled to another dimension to claim the legendary One Piece treasure in order to master all the elements. Along the way, he seduced the Sailor Scouts, massacred all the Grimm and Titans, upgraded his wardrobe to 1000% Life Fibers, defeated a yellow octopus with one punch, went on an ethusiastic walk with The Crimson Fucker, summoned a demon named Sebastian using his Gourmet Cells, transformed into a Super Mega-Ultra Spectacular Miraculous Fabulous Fantastic Amazing Spontaneous Super Saiyan, and became the six hundred and sixty-sixth Symbol of Peace.

And thus ends the tale of Kirito- I mean, Sakamoto-kun.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

 _Birth Name: Harry James Potter_

 _Parents: James Charles Potter (father), Lily Jeanne Potter née Evans (mother)_

 _Immediate Living Blood Relatives: Petunia Lane Dursley née Evans (maternal aunt), Dudley Vernon Dursley (maternal cousin, underage)_

 _Godparents: Sirius Orion Black (paternal godfather, distant paternal cousin, pending claim), Severus Tobias Snape (maternal godfather, dormant validity), Alice Elda Longbottom (maternal godmother, claim rendered invalid), Kuroyuki Kokuyoku (unsuitable guardian, claim rejected), Kali Kaposki the 1325th Head of the Black Cat Clan (unsuitable guardian, claim rejected)_

 _Vaults by Right of Blood:_

 _Black Family Vaults (partial Right, limited access as Heir Apparent)_

 _Gryffindor Vaults (unavailable until Age of Majority)_

 _Peverell Family Vaults (unavailable until Age of Majority)_

 _Potter Trust Vault (full access until Age of Majority)_

 _Potter Family Vaults (unavailable until Age of Majority)_

 _Vaults by Right of Conquest:_

 _Gilderoy Lockheart (full access)_

 _Gaunt Family Vaults (repossessed due to bankruptcy)_

 _Quirinus Quirrell (repossessed due to bankruptcy)_

 _Tom Marvolo Riddle (full access)_

 _Voldemort (full access)_

 _Vaults by Right of Tribute (full access granted to the following):_

 _A Bunch of Awesome FanFics, All those stories I love, Altherin's Archive, Amazingly Wonderful, Totally Awesome Stories, Awesome Harry Centric(mostly) Stories, Basill's fav's, Chaos-Reigns various favourites, Chisa's HP Faves, Compass Rose, Dark, Vampire Harry Potter Fic's, Demanicangel's favorites/alert story list, Devil-O-Angel's C2 of FAVS, Donna Fanfic's Favs., HARRY POTTER SLASH LOVERS, Harry Potter Crossovers slash, fem-harry and omc, Harry Potter and …, HarryPotter crossovers, Hoshi Phoenix Dreams Fanfiction of Note, Insanity-Red's Library of Favorites, Karin's Reading List, Kimi's Favorites, Loves and Losses, Mah faves of d00m, My heaven of stars, My many Favorites, PbookR's Favorites, Ranma, Digimon, Dragonball Z and Anything else I Think of, Selyne's recomendations, Shadow's Sanctuary, Simalol's favourite stories, Spiraling Insanity, Stories I Can't Put Down, The Best Fics I've read, Thejennmarie's fic list, all my faves!, the many favorites of Shirubaafokkusu_

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 _Vaults by Right of Sponsorship (full access granted to the following)_ _:_

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* * *

 **AN: You have no idea how long the omake section took me to complete (after going through the entire review section, I gave up doing the same to the favorites and follows because there are just too many names). This omake is essentially me wanting to give you all a shout-out for all the love you've given to the Acedia series. For your convenience, Will=Followers, Sponsorship=Favorites, Donation=Reviews, Tribute=Community.**

 **So yeah, this is a parody of what happens to Harry in Chapter 2 of Acedia. Definitely had a lot of fun with this one.**

 **6/3/2018 Edit: So I'm getting a lot of questions about where I'm going with this fic. Now I'm not saying what specific aspect but...(you know what I'm talking about...) ...So anyways, I've put up something like a "FAQ" section on my profile. I'll add more questions as I go or even add more info onto my current answers if necessary. So please come check that out too if you like.**

 **7/4/2018 Edit: Now betaed by blackkat1325. Thanks for all the time and effort you've put into this~! Fixed all the grammar issues and added a few things.**

 **10/1/2019 Edit: Polished up the scenes so it flows better, but otherwise, didn't change the contents of the chapter.**

 **Thank you all for reading this reboot~! Any and all reviews, favorites, and follows are appreciated~!** **ﾟ** **.+(** **〃ﾉ** **ω** **ﾉ** **)** **ﾟ** **.+°**


	2. Runaway II

**I know…Kuroyuki is surprisingly still alive. A mixture of real life, me taking my time writing this out, and procrastination prevents me from updating more often.**

* * *

Chapter 2: Runaway II

" _Someone get a Mediwizard in here immediately!"_

" _Merlin's saggy balls! How long has he been like this?"_

" _We're losing him! I don't know what's wrong. At this rate, his body will shut down, and he'll die!"_

" _His Magical Core! Something's just drained his Magic dry! If this keeps up, there won't be a drop of it left!"_

" _It's the Goblet of Fire! Magic is punishing her Champion!"_

" _It's too late. The boy will be dead before sunrise."_

" _Is it done?"_

" _Wait! His Magical Core is acting up again! It's…? He's fighting back?!"_

" _...Is that…? That fire… It can't be… Is it truly Soulfire?"_

Hadrian suddenly jolted awake from his dream. His heart was pounding loudly in his ears, and his sheets were completely drenched in his sweat. Breathing heavily, he struggled to calm himself down.

He wasn't able to go back to sleep that night. The agonizing feeling of what happened to him back when he was still "Harry Potter" was still fresh in his mind.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

On the twenty-fifth of November, Harry had suddenly collapsed in the middle of his negotiations with the Gringotts Goblins. He didn't remember much of what happened, but from what he was told, he had been teetering between life and death for almost a whole week as every last ounce of Magic was drained away from his Magical Core. This slow agonizing, and drawn-out death was his punishment for not fulfilling his Magical Contract with the Goblet of Fire.

However, despite the odds, Harry had survived. His previously empty Core immediately sprang back to life. The foreign energy had filled up the gaps left behind by Magic, though it caused a few noticeable changes to his body.

When he finally came to in the Gringotts guest room, the teen had almost panicked when he saw purple fire coming from his forehead and his vivid green eyes gaining a glowing orange-purple ring around the pupils. The Goblins took samples of the fire and tested them. They later concluded that in a bid for survival, his Core had forced him to awaken a type of Lost Magic to make up for the lack of Magic, Soulfire Aspects.

Harry didn't know what a "Soulfire Aspect" was, but luckily the Goblins had a book on the subject, a long forgotten collection of research notes by a woman named Lavinia Lockheart, whom Hadrian would later find out was an ancestor by marriage of a certain fraud of a DADA professor. (Of course, the rental fee on such a rare book was anything but cheap. Those greedy little bastards.) Judging by the color of the fire, Hadrian more or less fell under the category of the "Amethyst Soul Shade" classification, however, there was no explanation for why there was the occasional flicker of a lighter color within the purple-tinted flames. In the end, the Goblins chalked it up as a side effect of his newly-Awakened Soulfire.

According to the book, Soulfire Aspects came in seven different types of Soul Shades: amber, ruby, turquoise, topaz, emerald, amethyst, and sapphire.

Sapphire Soul Shades were the most common. Those who had this Aspect were more compatible with Transfiguration. Shrewd and cunning, these type of people were the type to strike when you least expect them to.

Topaz Soul Shades made very effective Healers. It was rather common for them to be excitable and passionate people.

Ruby Soul Shades were warriors-born first and foremost. They came off strong and intense even when they were not practicing their Hexes.

Emerald Soul Shades may be quirky individuals, but when push came to shove, they were highly protective. It was no wonder their specialty was Defense Magic.

Turquoise Soul Shades typically had an easier time mastering Jinxes. But contrary to their Magical specialization, they were typically peacemakers and pacifists.

Amethyst Soul Shades were fairly uncommon compared to the other types. A common personality trait among people who fall under this type was that they were viciously independent and territorial individuals. Curses, normally a magically taxing field, were no problem whenever they wanted to use them.

And lastly, Amber Soul Shades were the rarest of them all. Social and charismatic, they were natural leaders. It wasn't uncommon for a regional ruler or war general to be an Amber. Typically, Charms were where they excelled when it came to Magic.

Lavinia highlighted that Wizards were completely unable to awaken this type of magic and utilize them to the extent Muggles and Squibs could. According to her hypothesis, Soulfire was the equivalent of a Wizard's Magical Core, only their pathways didn't actually contain magic. In fact, Soulfire was actually the mystical manifestation of the individual's soul. While every person's soul had an Aspect to fall under, it was impossible for an individual to be both a Magic User and a Soulfire Wielder without suffering heavy repercussions. Adding another power source created cracks on the individual's Magical Core, not only causing irreparable damage to their bodies but also severely damaging their souls in the process. The strain would eventually kill them within a few months to a decade at most, as their broken bodies eventually succumbed to fatal side effects invoked by their Aspects, and their very soul was painfully whittled away from the overwhelming presence of both supernatural forces.

Due to the dangers it posed to Wizardkind at the time, Soulfire Magic was categorized under the label of Dark Arts a couple of centuries ago by the Ministry of Magic. It was considered to be a branch of highly forbidden Soul Manipulation Magic. Eventually Soulfire Magic faded into obscurity. The only information that was allowed to remain was the identification of Soul Shades, which were mostly used in Divination to determine someone's core personality and Magical Affinity but nothing else.

After reading through Lavinia's notes and fully recovering from his Awakening ordeal, Harry went back to his business with Gringotts. He wanted a fresh start with his life and to separate himself from the British Wizarding World as much as possible, so he picked a random country to move to and a new name to suit.

Within a few days, the Goblins had set up an entirely new identity of Hadrian Temperanza. As soon as Harry, now renamed Hadrian, had set foot on Italian soil, his former identity ceased to be.

Hadrian Temperanza was now free to do what he wished with his life.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

' _Is my luck really that bad or is it a Curse I picked up somewhere?'_ Hadrian thought to himself irritably as he reminisced about what just happened.

Changing his name was easy. Learning Italian was easy. Migrating to Italy and moving his inheritance to the Gringotts Italian Branch was time consuming but a fairly painless process. But finding and keeping a job? …Hadrian was at a total loss.

It wasn't that he wasn't able to afford a house or lacked the ability to get food. On the contrary, thanks to the combined riches he'd inherited, Hadrian, all the way down to his _grandchildren_ , could feasibly live a lavish lifestyle without ever needing to work a single day in their lives. However, the teen didn't want to become a spoiled deadbeat, so he decided to apply for work.

First, he started off as a cashier at a local fast food restaurant, but within a week, he was quickly let go. According to the manager, his coworkers and customers complained that there was something about him that made him "unapproachable." Despite no real evidence of Hadrian being a bad worker per say, the manager felt that it would be better for both parties if Hadrian were to stop working with them and seek better opportunities.

His next job was at a maid and butler cafe of all things. While Hadrian was out grocery shopping, his looks caught the attention of the owner of a theme cafe that had opened up recently in the neighborhood. At first, he was one of their butler-dressed waiters, assigned with playing the role of a tsundere (whatever that meant). However, he was eventually replaced in favor of a new hire. Not only was the guy actually of Japanese descent, but his exotic charm also brought in more customers than Hadrian. (To be honest, Hadrian was actually glad to be let go. There was only so much squealing and 'MOE~!' he could take before he had a mental breakdown.)

Disappointed with his luck so far, Hadrian took a few months break from work by volunteering at a local soup kitchen until he regained the confidence to start job hunting again. His time there got him a lot more than experience to add to his work résumé.

Turned out, some of the homeless, who had seen things best left untold and knew how to tell who was Flame Active, had a lot to say about the Mafia World and how the underground system worked. The Famiglias, the Vongola, Dying Will Flames, Vindice, the Varia, etc. By the time he finally managed to get accepted at his new workplace, the information Hadrian received in exchange for an extra serving or two answered a lot of questions that the Wizarding World and Lavinia Lockheart couldn't answer.

His third attempt was as a part-time janitor at a large multinational corporation that served as the legal face of the Vongola Famiglia, easily the longest job he'd ever held thus far. Everything was more or less fine until an incident occurred that forced him to quit because it was easily the worst thing he'd ever experienced ever since he moved to Italy.

One evening, Hadrian had just clocked out when all of a sudden, he was accosted by one of his coworkers. The older man proceeded to drag him into a nearby church and bodily threw the young teen at the feet of a confused priest. He started demanding that the dark-haired boy be exorcised to "get rid of his demonic influence and the unnatural presence possessing him."

The priest took one look at Hadrian and immediately gave him a look of sorrow and pity. The priest then tried to calm the God-fearing man down and tell him that Hadrian was just an ordinary person and that there was nothing that could be done. Rather than listening to the holy man's pleas, the unhinged man blew up and dissolved into a venomous rant about how "an abomination like him deserves to be killed," followed more hateful slurs. It wasn't until the man finally uttered the word "freak" that the teen felt a familiar snap in the back of his mind, then everything went black.

When he finally came to, Hadrian found himself standing over the beaten and bloody body of his coworker, his fists covered in the man's blood. One of his arms was being held back by the frightened priest, who was begging him to calm down and stop his assault. Horrified by what he had done, the black-haired young man stiffly turned to the priest and quietly apologized before swinging his still groaning coworker on his back and carrying him to the nearest hospital.

The next day, Hadrian handed in his resignation to his boss and quietly disappeared from their lives.

It wasn't until after the teen was fired from his fourth job that he was able to get some answers to what was going on with him.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

Hadrian Temperanza, aged fifteen as of last month, had managed to find a part-time job as a waiter at the Praepropere, a quaint little restaurant owned by a middle-aged woman. The environment was homey, the food wasn't bad, and the customers were relatively amicable. Unfortunately, Hadrian should've known that with his luck, something was bound to go wrong in some way.

"Get out of my restaurant. You're fired," the owner snapped at Hadrian as soon as he walked through the door.

The teen felt a vein pulsating on his temple as his previously good mood instantly soured. It was now the what? fourth? or fifth time he had heard those words. "...Let me guess... Was it because of the douchebag I threw out by the ballsack just the other day? Because if this how you fucking reward your employees for protecting themselves from sexual harassment, then this shitty job is one I'm actually glad to be fired from." Hadrian snarked, already sick and tired of the look his current (ex?)boss was giving him.

The older woman sniffed and glowered at the green-eyed teen. "Believe me, my restaurant won't be losing anything by getting rid of you. And don't give me the innocent act. I know... _We all know_ what you _really_ are."

Hadrian almost panicked but kept his cool. ' _Crap! How did she knew that I used to be a Wizard?!_ '

"Abominations like you shouldn't be around good folks like us. Your kind is better off at the mercy of the Vindice."

' _Why the Vindice? I thought the Mafia tries to keep themselves_ away _from the Wizarding World._ '

"I'd even go as far as to say the world will be better if someone finally puts a bullet between your eyes. A merciful fate for those like you than risk infection by keeping you around a bit longer."

Hadrian growled lowly at her hateful words. _Infection?_ Seriously!? Firing him for not being a people-person was one thing, but adding insult to injury by saying that he belongs in the Mafia World's equivalent of Azkaban was a bit much.

Not even bothering to collect his last paycheck, Hadrian turned around and left the restaurant. Already he could feel a migraine developing. He could use a nap to sleep off today's stress and frustrations.

Just as he was about to cross an intersection, the man next to him began talking to him. "Oh, you poor, poor thing. That woman was so rude, humiliating you by publicly outing your condition like that. That just shows how low-quality that place is," he said, his masculine voice accented with an effeminate tonation.

The man talking to the teen was tall and muscular with most of his hair shaved off save for a part in the front, which was dyed green. He had on a pair of tinted, red-rimmed sunglasses and a metal plate on his left knee. But what stood out the most was that he was wearing a recognizable uniform that identified him as a member of the Varia, the Vongola Famiglia's independent elite assassination squad.

"Ciao, dearie~! My name is Lussuria," the Varia Sun happily greeted the teen and held out his hand.

"Ciao. Hadrian Temperanza. Nice to meet you, I suppose," he replied and firmly shook Lussuria's hand.

"You must be upset after being fired from your job in such an uncouth manner, darling. Why don't I cheer you up by taking you out for an early lunch, my treat," Lussuria said. From an outsider's perspective, he _sounded_ like a relatively friendly individual. However, Hadrian could feel the barely restrained eagerness wafting off of the Sun Officer in waves.

The green-eyed teen sighed heavily. "You're just going to kidnap me anyways even if I refuse."

"Actually, I prefer to call it 'borrowing your person for an undisclosed amount of time.' It sounds much more polite."

Hadrian let out a loud exasperated groan. He could feel his migraine getting worse.

...Fuck it all, it's not like Hadrian had anything better to do at the moment. "I'm craving seafood."

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

Half an hour later, Hadrian found himself seated at a private table with a glass of wine at a relatively-upscale restaurant with Lussuria ordering for the both of them. "Do you happen to serve treacle tart for dessert?" Hadrian interjected.

"Yes, we do, Signor," their waiter nodded.

"Ooh~! That sounds just lovely, I'll have that as well," Lussuria chirped.

The waiter quickly jotted down the new additions to the order. "Will that be all for you two?"

"For now," Lussuria waved him off. As soon as the waiter left, the Varia Officer fixed his full attention on Hadrian. "Now, you're probably wondering why I think the Varia would be interested in a civilian like you?"

"That is… one of the many questions running through my mind. Also, before I open that can of worms, why a cutesy nickname like 'Hari-chan?'" The green-eyed boy said with a miniscule frown. It wasn't that "Hari-chan" was bad or anything, it was just that it hit a little too close to his former identity.

"Why not? A cute little nickname to suit a little cutie like yourself~!" The Sun Officer cooed. Then he took on a more serious demeanor while keeping an amicable smile so as to not scare the teen off.

"Now why don't we cut to the chase? I want to know why an Active Cloud such as yourself feels like a Discorded Element despite not displaying any of the tell-tale symptoms. From what I can tell, you're Unbonded, and you've never been Bonded before. Not only that, but the Quality of your Flames fluctuate erratically, which doesn't bold well for you either. Healthwise, that is.

"Your Flames are _very uncommon_ , dearie. I wasn't too sure whether or not I should even approach you, but the moment I shook your hand, I finally had my answer. I decided that the Varia would certainly _love_ to get to know you better, my little Cloud cutie." Lussuria finished with a not-so reassuring smile.

Cloud? Oh yeah, his Soulfire Aspect. Here in Italy, the Mafia referred to them by weather phenomenons for some reason.

"If you're looking for an elaborate explanation, then you might want to get a Flame Doctor or something. Besides, I'm technically a civilian even if everything I know about how the Mafia works came from unconventional sources. Doesn't help that I barely know anything about Flames in the first place." The dark-haired teen replied carefully. "Why are you so curious about _me_ of all people anyways? I highly doubt you talked to me just because you wanted a lunch buddy. Surely, I can't be the only Ame- Cloud that fits whatever criteria the Varia has set?"

"It's a bit of a long story, sweetie, but I'll try to stick to the basics. I don't know if you've heard, but my Sky has been iced, no thanks to the Nono Vongola. Xanxus had… how should I put this? He had a bit of a temper tantrum after finding out that the Vongola has been infested with a nest of rats. It didn't help that he had received a bit of bad news a few weeks earlier. When he tried to confront his father, the talks didn't go well."

Hadrian narrowed his in suspicion at Lussuria's vague explanation. It was clear that the older man had deliberately left out a lot of details, but Hadrian decided not to dig deeper. That didn't stop the former Wizard from sliding in a dry comment. "Sounds like a family drama straight out of a soap opera. Again, I still don't see why the Varia would want anything to do with a civilian you just met on the streets."

"I'm getting to that." Lussuria interrupted before continuing. "You see, after Xanxus's disappearance, we found that most of the aforementioned _rats_ could be traced back to the Varia Cloud Division. Unfortunately, the Nono put his foot down and refused to allow us to, and I quote, 'needlessly kill those under our command without probable cause.' He declared that only the Boss could order the extermination of the current Cloud Officer, otherwise a challenger could kill him to take his position for themselves."

"Let me guess, you want me to be said challenger." Hadrian confirmed just as their food arrived. "Seriously? You can't honestly expect me to measure up to a Varia Quality assassin who also runs an entire division of like-minded assassins!"

Lussuria gave the teen a girlish giggle and proceeded to gush over Hadrian. "Compared to that traitor's measly wisps of power, you're a _tsunami_ of potential, and I still haven't fully examined your Flames in depth." Taking a sip of his wine, the Varia Sun became serious once more. "But you do have a point. That bastard hasn't kept his title as the current Cloud Officer by overpowering his opponents with his Flames. He earned his position by learning how to be sneaky and underhanded when it comes to getting rid of any power rivals. We don't just need a _stronger_ Cloud Officer to usurp him...we need a _smarter_ one."

"And you're offering to train me up so I can take him down for you and then take his place?" Hadrian asked suspiciously, sampling a bite of his capitone in umido (stewed eel in tomato sauce). It needed more sauce if you asked him.

"I like to think that accepting my offer is better than the alternative. Let me paint you a picture. Sooner or later, someone will take notice of how unusually powerful you are, assuming that they haven't already tried to force you into something you don't want. Luckily, I'm here to give you a _choice_ to accept, which is a lot more than I could say for other Famiglias eager to get their hands on a powerful Cloud."

"Not much of a choice from where I'm standing." Hadrian grumbled unhappily.

Lussuria gave the teen a helpless shrug, but otherwise didn't deny it.

"By the way, you mentioned earlier about my Flames being 'distorted' or whatever. I'm getting the feeling that's not good, right?"

"Discorded, darling," Lussuria corrected before adding, "It's hard for me to explain, but your Flames aren't in very good shape. I need to get a closer look at you so I can give you a rough assessment on what's going on."

"So, what? You're going to do a full-body check on me here in the middle of this restaurant?"

"Pretty much~! Don't worry, dearie, you can keep your clothes on seeing as you're too much on the small and delicate side to be my type," Lussuria chirped without batting an eye.

Hadrian immediately choked on his drink. Once he got ahold of himself, he wheezed out, "...I was being sarcastic…"

The older man got up from his seat and danced towards the emerald-eyed teen. Lussuria deftly lifted the chair with Hadrian still on it and spun it so they were face to face.

Lussuria started off with a simple pat-down. Carefully probing with his Flames, he poked and prodded until he finally located an anomaly around the teen's cranium. Immediately migrating his touch to the head area, the Varia Officer managed to locate something in Hadrian's forehead. Spotting the unusual lightning-shaped scar, Lussuria casually poked a finger at it.

Suddenly, the flamboyant man immediately yanked himself back away from the former-Wizard in revulsion. "What kind of _sick, twisted_ person-?! How could _this_ have slipped past the Vindice?! Whoever did this to you should be chucked straight into the lowest levels of Hell!" Lussuria spat out, his disgust not actually directed at the young man in front of him.

Startled by the man's reaction, Hadrian asked in concern, "What?! What's wrong with me?!"

The Sun Officer could only give the green-eyed teenager a distressed look before answering, "I'm afraid this is all bad news for you, Hari-chan. Inside that scar on your forehead, I found a fragment of what I think is someone else's Flames, or rather what's left of them. Not only is that thing thoroughly Discorded, but from what my Flames can tell, it's not the first time they've torn their own Flames into pieces and shoved it somewhere outside their body. I think it's probably the fifth or sixth time, but my guess could be off since the fragment is way too small and ruined for me to get an accurate read. We're going to need some heavy duty Flame equipment if we're ever going to get the full story behind the Flame Shard. I don't know if that's the right word for that, but that's how I'm going to describe it from now on, Hari-chan."

Hadrian felt his spine turn to ice and the blood drain from his face. Horror and realization slowly dawned on his face as the teen's emerald-green eyes were blown wide open. His pupils shrank in terror behind the ugly coke-bottle glasses and his oxygen intake grew less and less.

In a flash, he jumped up to lunge towards Lussuria and grabbed ahold of the man's lapels with a white-knuckled grip. The force of his actions knocked back his chair and tipped over their table in the process, spilling its contents onto the floor. Hysterically, Hadrian pleaded, "GET IT OUT OF ME! GET IT OUT _RIGHT NOW_! PLEASE! I DON'T WANT THIS THING IN ME FOR ANOTHER SECOND!"

"I can't! If I could, I would be more than happy to! But right now, I can't think of a way to get rid of that little parasite without severely damaging your Flames. In fact, I don't even know if _there is_ a safe way to fix you without risking Discord." Lussuria protested, trying to placate the young man while coaxing his hands to let go of him.

Over and over... All he could think was, ' _What the hell?_ _What the hell whatthehellwhatthehellwhatthehell?!_ ' He'd had a _bloody piece of Voldemort_ stuck in his damnable scar for Merlin knows _how long_? Was it during his Second Year down in the Chamber? His First? Or maybe the night when Voldemort murdered his parents? He felt dirty and violated. All this time, that _thing_ had been inside his bloody scar for... for _years_ , and he just learned of this now?!

Hadrian didn't register much after that. He wanted to demand more answers, but for some reason, his voice had failed him. No matter what he tried, his traitorous body refused to listen and let him speak or… or do _something_. _Anything!_ It was like being caged within in his own mind as he was slowly and painfully fading away.

He could barely hear the Varia Officer gently talking to him over the sound of his blood pounding in his ears. The world around him distorted, darkness was starting to creep into his vision. He couldn't breathe! Why couldn't he breathe? The pressure was suffocating. His chest hurt so much. It felt like his heart was trying to escape his chest. A tingling numbness spread throughout his body. He began shaking all over, and at some point, his legs had collapsed underneath him.

It felt like an eternity before Hadrian finally managed to come to his senses. Lussuria's voice gradually brought him back to reality as the martial artist carefully rubbed his back. The man's repetitive motion of comfort was just enough to get him to calm down little by little. He was still sobbing pathetically, his head between his knees, sitting on the floor, and his clothes felt uncomfortably sticky from sweating earlier. According to what Lussuria was saying, he had just had a panic attack and needed to breathe on his count. All the while, Hadrian thought, ' _Is that what happened to me?'_

"Here, Hari-chan, I got you something. You need to get your blood sugar up after a panic attack. It'll help you recover faster," the flamboyant Sun advised him gently as he took a glass of what he guessed was a mango fruit smoothie from a passing waiter.

Barely responsive, Hadrian slowly turned his head towards the older man who held out his bright yellow, lacy handkerchief and the offered drink to him.

"You know, I think Shamal Trident can help you," Lussuria suggested once the former-Wizard was staring listlessly into his reflection in the fancy drinking glass in his hands.

"...Hm?" The young man questioned.

"He's a reputable assassin who specializes in diseases, or more specifically Flame Diseases," the martial artist elaborated. "Don't let his methods fool you, but he's one of, if not, _the_ best Flame Doctor Italy has ever produced. He's good enough that the Varia tried to recruit him once or twice. Shame he's always turned us down," Lussuria finished with a pout.

"It's getting late so I should get going, Hari-chan. I'll pay the bill on my way out so you can take all the time you need to collect your thoughts. Arrivederci, sweet pea."

And with that, the Varia Sun Officer got up to leave the restaurant, but not before leaving a generous bonus to cover the damages.

However, the martial artist suddenly recalled an important detail he had forgotten to mention to Hadrian. "...Oh dear, I should've told Hari-chan that Shamal doesn't treat men…" Lussuria said to himself as he headed home. "Oh well, I'm sure he'll be fine~!"

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

Getting away from the suffocating expectations of the Wizarding World was the best decision he'd ever made. Sure, he had to give up his Magic forever in the process, but the chains that once threatened to choke out his individuality were gone. However, in sacrificing his identity as a Wizard for his freedom, he also felt like he had also lost something vital in the process.

Even though he was now free to do whatever he wished with his life, he couldn't help but feel… Listless... Empty.

It felt like there was a big gaping hole in the depths of his heart that kept him from truly being satisfied. His gut instinct told him that it wasn't a side effect of losing his magic but something much deeper. Hadrian knew that he was searching for something, but the problem was he had no idea what it was that he was searching for.

His slump had only gotten worse ever since a certain Varia member told him about the fragment of Voldemort living rent-free on his forehead deformity. That was about a month ago.

"Hari-chan~! Ciao, long time no see~! How have you been since I last saw you?" Lussuria cooed.

Speak of the devil...

Hadrian gave the flamboyant Sun a tired wave and complained, "I still have a piece of my parents' murderer stuck in my head, I only got about three hours of sleep last night, and I'm on my way to beg for that androphobic, disease-ridden quack to take me on."

Not that the older man got a good look at the former-Wizard, the young man looked a bit under the weather. "Ooh, not very well then," he commented sympathetically.

"I am this close to turning him into a eunuch in his sleep, force feeding him his own testicles, and then shoving his micro-penis up his own ass."

"Why didn't you just look up on other Flame Doctors?" Lussuria pointed out.

"I did. Of all the Flame Doctors in the world, there are only seven who even have the basic requirements to perform the Flame Surgery to get this thing out of me without killing me and/or being forced to kill me," Hadrian continued explaining. "Two of them are Storms (which will cause problems because of how delicate the procedure is and how they will conflict with my Cloud Flames), three are already a part of a Famiglia (the last thing I want is to be forced to join one as payment for the treatment), one has the knowledge but recently lost the necessary skills to perform after a bad fight, and the last one was reported to have been seen traveling around the UK, which is already a deal breaker (I didn't move to Italy just so I would get dragged back to that backwards hellhole of a community).

"In other words, no matter how much I wished for another alternative, Shamal Trident is my only hope."

"You're really British? That explains a few things, like your accent and your background check," Lussuria clarified.

Hadrian lifted an eyebrow at that. "What'd you find out?"

"Word of advice, Hari-chan. When you're constructing a believable false identity, try adding a bit of truth here and there if you can't afford to keep up the act indefinitely. The way your profile was set up wouldn't look too out of place for a native Sicilian. However, _you_ obviously aren't. Everything from the way you act down to how you look practically screams foreigner. Frankly, the work done to construct your background is impressive, but even a rookie could see through it as soon as they see you. It's almost an insult to our skills," Lussuria finished with a displeased pout.

Hadrian couldn't help but sweatdrop. When he put it that way, it did make him sound very suspicious. "...To be fair, I had someone else whip that up for me, and I was planning on living in Italy indefinitely anyways. I guess we didn't think that someone would go out of their way to investigate one teenaged boy."

When Gringotts helped him formulate his new identity, he had paid them to make his new background "look as natural as possible." Technically, he got what he asked for so the former-Wizard couldn't exactly fault the Goblins for not taking paranoid Mafiosi into account.

The Varia Officer then noticed the object his little friend held in his hands. "So, what's in the basket?"

Hadrian held it up proudly with a gleam in his eyes. "Bribery. Money didn't work, so now I'm trying to seduce him with my cooking. Hopefully, he likes my most successful attempt at the local cuisine."

"Will that work?"

"Worth a shot. The man thinks more with his lower organs than the one in his head. With the promise of more goodies, at least I'll be speaking his language through a different type of hunger."

"But what will you do if your plan doesn't work out?"

Hadrian looked up at Lussuria. His delicate features might as well have been carved in stone, but there was an unsettling glint in those expressive, vivid green eyes. For a moment, Hadrian looked like a psychopath. "I'm giving him another week. If he still refuses after that, then whatever I do to him is all on him," the teen deadpanned eerily with a barely noticeable smile.

The Varia Sun Officer decided not to pry any further into what the young man meant. Before Hadrian went on his way, Lussuria gave him his contact number and managed to convince the dark-haired teen to buy himself a cell phone, so they could stay in touch.

It would be some time before the flamboyant okama ever saw Hadrian in person again.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

"VOOOII! You found a Quality Cloud? How powerful is this Hadrian kid exactly?" Squalo exclaimed.

Lussuria tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Probably not Arcobaleno level, but more than enough to put Ottavio in his place."

"If he's a Cloud, why wasn't he hostile towards you after practically blackmailing him? Civilian or not, there's also the question of his territory. If it's going to cause problems for us, I doubt he'll be too keen on helping us," Levi pointed out.

"About that... I don't think he even has a territory, at least not anymore," Lussuria elaborated, which shocked his fellow Officers into silence. "You know all those baby Clouds who are still getting used to their Flames? It's like that, but for Hari-chan, he doesn't know what his _true_ territory is. Even if he does, it's like the loss isn't affecting him as it should unless he's not all that attached to it in the first place."

"Really? Not even people?" Levi said.

"If his territory was people or a person, what sane Cloud in the right mind could tolerate them being away from their protective influence, let alone force themselves to walk away from said territory?"

Underneath his thick bangs, Belphegor raised an eyebrow. "What about his behavior? Does he at least show any sort of possessive behavior?"

"Not in the slightest. On our third lunch date, I tried to test him by stealing a few bites of his meal. Not only does he let me do it, but he seems resigned whenever I do. I even took his fork right out of his hand, not even so much as a frown. I even went as far as to steal his wallet to pay for our dinner a few days ago. Hari-chan didn't even blink!" Lussuria complained, mostly out of concern.

"Muu, could you say he looks depressed? Like he has no real purpose to live for?" Mammon questioned.

"Hmmm. Now that you mention it," Lussuria tapped a finger to the side of his cheek. "Hari-chan has always looked a little despondent. Even more so lately."

"Would you say that he reminds you of a puppet that's had their strings cut?"

The description made Lussuria frown. "...Yes. Where exactly are you going with this?"

"Ushishi...Sounds like it could be _that_ , Mammy," Belphegor chimed in, turning his head to look at Mammon.

The tiny Mist nodded back in reply before explaining. "We may have an idea on what's going on. As you all should know, there's an unspoken rule that Clouds and their territories are to be left alone unless you're foolish enough to want to deal with the aftermath."

Levi scoffed. "Of course we'd know. Everyone and their _grandmother_ should know about Clouds and their Cloud Rage."

Belphegor interjected. "Mammy and I have heard about this, but it's more or less a theoretical technique that's practically doomed for failure to begin with. You take a baby Cloud and force them to accept a territory that you yourself chose for them as their own. At the same time, you do whatever it takes to isolate them in order to induce dependency, practically to unhealthy levels. It takes years for the conditioning to stick, but what you get out of it is a Cloud attack dog completely under your thumb. It has to be done very early in the Cloud's life with the window of opportunity stops at early childhood, which is when baby Clouds typically start to figure out their territorial boundaries."

"Wait?! Are you telling me that there are people who've succeeded?!" Levi exclaimed in horror.

"Muu, calm down, Levi," Mammon interrupted. "To answer, yes, there are foolish people willing to try that, but as far as I know, this is the first I've actually seen any form of success _within_ the Cosa Nostra. Normally, chaining a Cloud slowly drives them into Discord, even if they were to Harmonize with a Sky, but Temperanza either was able to escape before that happens or is talented at hiding the damage caused by his conditioning."

"Back to the peasant..Right now, he's at his most vulnerable. No Sky to stabilize him, no support system to fall back on, and no attachments to dictate his loyalties if he has any at all. He's practically a blank slate. Better that the Varia gets their hands on him before another Famiglia gets the same idea," Belphegor added.

"Madre di Dio, an unaffiliated Quality Cloud. The little trash sounds almost perfect. Maybe too perfect. That just makes me even more suspicious," Squalo said, feeling very conflicted. On one hand, his paranoia was screaming how this might be a trap set by their enemies, but on the other hand, this was their chance to get back some of the Varia's autonomy. Finally, the Sword Emperor decided that they couldn't let this opportunity slip through their fingers. However, they needed to approach the situation with caution in case this turned out to be another attempt to sneak an insider among their ranks. "Luss, you keep up your contact with this kid. In the meantime, Mammon will be in charge of his background check."

"Can do, Squalo-sweetie~!"

"Muu, wire me the usual fee once I have all the information."

Immediately after, the sound of Spanish guitars strumming away with rock music playing the background interrupted the meeting. Recognizing his ringtone, Lussuria reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "Oh, perfect timing~! Hari-chan just texted me."

"I thought you told us that Temperanza didn't have a phone," Levi pointed out.

"Correction, he _used_ to. As you can see, I was able to talk Hari-chan into finally getting one for himself." Lussuria said as he read Hadrian's text. Then his eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh my."

"Well, what'd the brat say?" Squalo demanded.

Lussuria read what was on the screen out loud. _Finally captured him. Just had 2 threaten 2 burn his balls away with acid. Have 2 go MIA 4 a while 4 treatment tho. Will text u the deets later. (_ _)_ _ゞ_

"Well, would you look at that? I've only showed him how to apply shorthands the other day, and Hari-chan's already mastered it. But since when did he knew how to use emoticons?

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...Ushishishi...I like him already."

* * *

 **AN: Compared to prototype Acedia, I changed Hadrian's jobs to more realistic opportunities, added more Varia appearances and more Lussuria/Hadrian BroTP-to-be interactions, fixed up the pre-existing interactions, and injected into Hadrian several healthy doses of pessimistic sarcasm. By the way, in the next chapter, expect more Varia appearances as well as snippets of what's happening on the Wizarding World's end. Unfortunately, Xanxus is still a couple more chapters away before he makes his first official appearance, so stay tuned.**

 **Praepropere: To eat before the time of the meals in order to satisfy your palate is one of the five ways to commit gluttony, according to Pope Gregory I (or St. Gregory the Great). In** _ **Summa Theologica**_ **, St. Thomas Aquinas later defines it as Praepropere, eating to hastily (too soon or at an inappropriate time).**

 **Soulfire Aspects: I would like to thank Araceil for the inspiration behind Soulfire Aspects and the Wizarding World's conception of DWF. All credit goes to this wonderful author~! I hope you don't mind me putting my spin to the concept for my story.**

 **Hadrian's Flames and Soul Shard: Hadrian is still a Cloudy-Sky. It's just that no one has realized it yet because he's subconsciously propagating his secondary Flames to hide his primary. It's a carry-over from Hadrian's former habit of not wanting attention, and he already knows that Amber(Sky)=leadership expectations=unnecessary attention. As for the quote-on-quote Flame Shard, it's the reason why Hadrian felt Discorded to those familiar with Flames despite not showing any additional symptoms to confirm that he is. Hadrian and the Mother's Love Protection are doing its best to combat the Horcrux's influence, but time has eroded Lily's Sacrificial Magic. Occasionally, that protection slips and the Horcrux briefly overpowers Hadrian's Flames, letting loose a malicious aura that causes people around him to feel uneasy and slowly foster negative feeling towards him. Things starts off small but build up slowly. Those negative feelings stew and fester until the person affected is tipped over the edge. It's even worse for those who are aware of how much of a danger Hadrian is as a "Discorded Element." So it's not really anyone's fault that Hadrian's experiencing the low end of the Potter Luck in this chapter.**

* * *

Omake II: Special Order

Hadrian stared down at the three fish laid out on the kitchen counter. They were undoubtedly pufferfish. Their inflated, round, and pointy bodies were unmistakable. Not only that, they were still alive and flopping about as though they had just been taken out the water (which, for all Hadrian knew, that might just be the case).

"The prince demands fugu sashimi," Belphegor declared with a smug shit-eating grin. Maybe it was his wide smirk and striped shirt, but for a moment, the dark-haired teen couldn't help but think how this situation felt as if a Cheshire-esqued cat had brought in his most recent kill to his owner.

"Bel, pufferfish are poisonous. _Deadly_ poisonous," the other teen warned.

"So?"

"Don't chefs need years and years of practice to safely prepare them? Years and years that I _don't_ currently have?"

"And?"

"Bel, given my track record, I'll cut myself while preparing the sashimi and end up foaming at the mouth on the floor. And knowing how my luck goes, you'll be in the same state after the first bite."

"The wildcat is just being a big pussy."

"Yeah, no, I'm still not doing it," Hadrian objected with a note of finality.

"Ka-ching! You're either going to cut them up, or the prince will cut _you_ up," the blond teen snapped as he tried to take a stab at the Varia chef.

"Bitch, don't test me! I have a fork and fucking Cloud Flames. I can show you exactly why the Quarto used a bloody fork of all things as his preferred weapon," the Cloud snarled back after catching the knife with said utensil.

It wasn't until Belphegor finally told Hadrian what he was planning to do with the fugu sashimi that the dark-haired teen finally relented and agreed to make the deadly delicacy. A few YouTube videos later, and he was ready to amateurly butcher the poisonous fish.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

Funny thing about Storm Flames was that their Disintegrating characteristic allowed Users to break down foreign substances within their bodies into almost nothing. This ability made Storms fearsome opponents. Not only could their Flames completely destroy their enemies, but they were the worst opponents for poison users.

So when a certain Storm was charged with the disposal of a few would-be spies after the Varia had gotten all the information out of them, the young Varia Officer capitalized on his immunity to not only grab a delicious meal but also complete his "chore" in one go.

"VOI! Are you done taking out the trash?" Squalo bellowed as he kicked the door that led down to the holding cells open.

Behind him, Mammon floated into the room. "Bel, if the rats are still alive, I'm docking your next paycheck for shirking your duties," the Mist Officer warned.

What they find in the room was a self-satisfied Belphegor surrounded by the corpses of said spies polishing off what remained of an exotic lunch. The bodies sported blue agonized faces and had foam bubbling in their mouths. Scattered across the floors were abandoned plates and utensils. They didn't need an autopsy to see that the infiltrators had died from a potent neurotoxin laced within the young Storm's meal. No doubt the little shit offered to share his food with the ignorant prisoners despite the fact that they should've known that anything Belphegor had would kill _them_ but not him.

"Ushishi, the prince is just about done," the blond teenager sneered as he stuffed the last of his sashimi into his mouth.

Let it be known that a bored Prince the Ripper was a creative Prince the Ripper.

* * *

 **AN: Before I forget, shoutout to my friends over on Discord for helping me formulate the panic attack scene and this omake. Your advice and suggestions have really helped me~ And another shout-out to blackkat1325 for being my beta~ I love and appreciate your patience and hard work~! Thanks for everything!**

 **Fugu sashimi: The liver and ovaries contain lethal amounts of poison. Once in the system, the poison paralyzes the muscles by shutting down the nerves and eventually kills the victim via asphyxiation. I had an idea where Belphegor would totally eat neurotoxin-laced fugu with no problems because his Flames can easily break down the poison. Even better if he can trick some unknowing sap into eating it. It might not be as satisfying as butchering his targets in a battle, but it can sure make the job of disposing some infiltrators fun.**

 **10/3/2019 Edit: Fixed up the scenes for smoother story flow.**

 **Thank you all for reading this reboot~! Any and all reviews, favorites, and follows are appreciated~! (** **ω** **)**


	3. Runaway III

**This chapter didn't turn out the way I expected because of how long it's gotten. Also, over one year has passed since I started the Acedia series. I meant to finish this chapter up earlier but real life takes precedent so sorry for the long wait~!**

* * *

Chapter 3: Runaway III

Trident Shamal was considered to be the best medical expert in the realm of Flame-related diseases and conditions. However, there was a catch when it came to getting treatment from the man: he absolutely refused to treat men whatsoever. So, like so many others with the XY chromosome who came to Shamal seeking treatment, he turned Hadrian away. But that didn't stop the stubborn teen from trying again… And again… And again...

The first week consisted of the teen tracking him down using the snowy owl that was his Flame-bonded Animal Partner (which he swears might be psychic or something since it never fails to locate him no matter where he is). Time and time again, Hadrian would request his medical expertise only to be shot down each time.

The second week and most of the third week, Hadrian resorted to bribes. At first, it was purely monetary until the former-Wizard got the idea to include mouthwatering homemade lunches to sweeten the deal. However, Hadrian's patience began to dry up after three whole weeks of repeated failed attempts. The green-eyed young man resorted to politely "warning" Shamal that he would take drastic measures to force the Flame Doctor's hand if he doesn't accept Hadrian as his patient.

Needless to say, Shamal didn't take the threats seriously. After all, he was a seasoned assassin. What could one malnourished teenaged civilian do to him?

In hindsight, he shouldn't have underestimated the kid's resources.

After rejecting yet another plea for his help, Shamal went on his way only to wake up the next morning, stripped down to his birthday suit with a very irate teenager holding a bottle of sulfuric acid ready to be poured over his groin area.

Trident Shamal was quick to agree after that... Not to mention a whole month of gourmet meals of his choice and 500 thousand euros wasn't that bad of a trade.

Fifty-six hours later, the Flame Doctor successfully extracted the Discorded Flame Shard from the teen. However, Hadrian didn't exactly come out of the Flame Surgery unscathed. After the procedure, not only did some of the teen's health problems previously caused by the Flame Shard, like severe vision loss and poor nutritional absorption, clear up within a few days, but the side effects that came with the extraction quickly reared its ugly head. Shamal wasn't the least bit surprised when he found out that his patient ended up developing a mutated form of Flame Starvation, a relatively uncommon but somewhat treatable Flame-related ailment.

Flame Starvation was a condition commonly found in Flame Addicts, people who'd become addicted to the Flames of a certain Element due to overexposure or a conditioned biological response. As a result, they would constantly crave those Flames, acting not unlike a drug addict desperately seeking out their next high. The majority of cases were cured within a few years with a mixture of therapy and tapering. However, Hadrian's case was different.

Much to the Flame Doctor's shock, a quick post surgery examination revealed that Hadrian Temperanza wasn't a pure Cloud as everyone had originally assumed. Instead the former-Wizard possessed primary Sky Flames and secondary Cloud Flames. As it turned out, his patient had been subconsciously overproducing his secondary Flames, possibly an instinctual survival technique to prevent Hadrian's Sky Flames from being damaged. This method neatly covered up the fact that he was an unaffiliated Sky. It probably wouldn't work against an expert actively trying to find out his Flame Type, but against inexperienced Users, it was more than effective to completely cloak the teen from their prying eyes.

Shamal later theorized that the young man's native Cloudy-Sky Flames may have also heavily influenced their Flame Starvation to be more severe and aggressive than normal. His Sky's Harmonizing factor combined with his Cloud's Propagating warped the symptoms and enhanced the effects of Flame Starvation.

Humans naturally seek out the things they lack. For Hadrian, his body was reliant on the presence of foreign Flames of any type in order to function normally. This made it impossible for him to be weaned off because even the most severe of Flame Starvation cases only dealt with one or two Elements rather than all of them in Hadrian's case. In addition, the teen became more hyper-aware towards the presence of Flames, leading to more frequent migraines especially if he was in a building full of Flame Active people. On the plus side, this ability would make it harder for Mafiosi to get the drop on the teen. Unfortunately, Hadrian's Flame Starvation would probably never be cured, but it was relatively manageable to a certain extent that it wouldn't cause too much trouble to him and others around him.

That was the last time Trident Shamal would see the kid, and he thought it would stay that way…

Until about a year later in Namimori when he saw Hadrian with the Varia as not only their Cloud Officer, but also as Xanxus's representative for the Vongola Cloud Ring Battle.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

Inside Varia Headquarters, Mammon and Belphegor burst into the Lussuria's office. The tiny Mist rapidly honed in on to the martial artist. The blond teen, on the other, had the widest maniacal grin the Sun Officer had ever seen on the young Storm.

"Lussuria, what kind of luck do you have to have someone like _that_ fall onto your lap?!" Mammon demanded.

The Sun Officer in question frowned in confusion and pondered for several moments until he finally realized that the Mist Arcobaleno was referring to Hadrian. "Oh! Is Hari-chan some sort of exiled prince or something? Now that I mentioned it, he does have that 'nobleman's child' look about him." His imagination ran wild as it came up with a variety of romantic backstories his young friend might have had.

"Ushishishishi... He's not royalty, but he is nobility. Specifically, he's a Lord, and an heir of at least two or three lines that I know of. His lineage is impressive because even the prince acknowledges his pedigree," Belphegor clarified before adding as an afterthought, "but even though he's not royalty like me, the peasant-lord's ancestry is a few hundred years older than mine."

The House of Potter could trace their family line back to around the 1000s when they used to refer to themselves as Peverell. Belphegor's own lineage, on the other hand, established themselves as a ruling monarchy around the same time the duchy of Prussia was founded in 1525. Technically, Hadrian would've been considered Belphegor's better if it wasn't for his "commoner" mother. However, exactly how "blue" the other teen's blood was compared to the Storm Officer's was still up in the air, mostly due to the recent groundbreaking discovery that all Muggleborn Witches and Wizards had been proven to be descendents of disowned Squibs who'd fled to the Muggle World.

Later in a meeting with Squalo, both Mammon and Bel gave a report on why Hadrian was such a big deal to them. Apparently, the kid was some big shot celebrity in the hidden magical world just for surviving a serial killer. Not exactly a big deal in the Mafia World, where the laws of physics were broken just as easily as federal laws, and faking one's death pretty much counted as a hobby. Sure, the kid may be famous in the world of wands and brooms, but that wasn't what the Varia cared about.

Well, not completely.

"We've hit the jackpot!" Mammon squealed as they practically can-can danced about Squalo's office. "His connections, his influence, _his money_! So help me, Squalo, if you let Temperanza go, I will charge you so much that all the currencies in the world won't be enough to cover your debt with me."

"VOI, would you quit floating around, baby trash?!" The swordsman roared in reply before adding, "Besides, you know the fuckling rules. He has to earn his place in the Varia fair and square. First, we need to see what the brat could bring to the table."

"In that case, why don't we all visit Hari-chan in between our missions? It'll keep Ottavio from getting too suspicious and you guys can see for yourself how he'll fit into the Varia," Lussuria suggested as he got out his phone to call up his little emerald-eyed friend to inform the teen about this new update.

Just as he was about to press the "call" button, a new message from said teen popped up on the screen.

 **Smol Kitten to Macho Sorella:** _hey, Luss… Shamal fainted when he redid my flame exam after surgery. my results say i have sky primary and cloud secondary. cloud i can understand but sky… is it bad i have 2 diff flames? ¯\\_(_ _ツ_ _)_/¯_

…

…

...

Oh…

That would explain why Lussuria warmed up to Hadrian so quickly. Maybe Mammon was right after all. What did the Varia do to have Lussuria stumble upon someone like Hadrian?

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

Superbi Squalo's first meeting with Hadrian Temperanza didn't turn out the way he expected to go. He wanted to see if the kid had any kind of combat experience. He had plans made and everything. He was even going to scare the baby Cloud brat a little to keep things as authentic as possible.

On the contrary, that didn't happen. However, what he did discover was that the kid could be a twisted piece of shit of Quality proportions when pushed.

At a table outside of a smoothie shop, Squalo found the black-haired teen slumped in his seat, cradling his plastic cup of pureed fruit like a shot glass full of alcohol with one hand. His head was facedown and his other arm dangled freely below the table. He resembled a down-on-his-luck drunk. Not only that, the sight of the former-Wizard's pet owl nonchalantly using her owner's prone head as a perch painted an amusing picture for the Varia Rain.

"VOI! Are you still alive or are you too busy crying over a fucking smoothie?" Squalo bellowed at the teen.

"...I just quit my job last night..." Hadrian mumbled into the table surface as Hedwig physically drooped to mimic her master's depression.

"And why the fuck should that mat-

"This is the _eighth_ time. _EIGHT!_ I can't keep a job for more than a few months at best. At this rate, I'm probably better off being one of those people who stay at home and upload videos about themselves reacting to that anime thing my cousin was obsessed with," the teen ranted as Hedwig angrily waved her wings around in sync with her owner's words.

According to Lussuria, the kid apparently had been having problems finding a stable job and keeping it. Some of the reasons why he got the pink slip of the week were pretty typical...others were downright hilarious (like the one time Hadrian went Gordon Ramsay on a shitty kitchen staff).

"Just out of curiosity, why did you quit?"

At that, Hedwig snorted and turned her beak up as though she smelled something disgusting. "My former boss's son. The guy was an arrogant, entitled manchild who got his job as assistant manager because daddy dearest is the owner of our workplace."

Squalo scowled in distaste. "So one of _those_ then…" He was familiar with the spoiled brat type back during his school days. In Mafia Academy, there was no shortage of heirs and heiresses of wealthy Famiglias who were used to throwing around their Don's influence to get what they want. "Voi, you better tell me that you at least gave him a good punch in the face or something."

Hedwig shrugged innocently as Hadrian replied, "Well no... but I did trick him into eating Rocky Mountain oysters..."

Squalo frowned in confusion. "How the hell would an appetizer solve anything!?"

The teen interrupted him. "I'm not done… Rocky Mountain oysters made from his own balls," Hadrian finished with Hedwig spreading her wings wide and shaking them lightly in a tah-dah manner.

For the first time in his life, Squalo had gone completely silent. The awkward moment seemed to last forever as it stretched on for several moments. Finally, the Varia Rain burst out into a full-bellied roar of laughter.

"VOI! Most civilian men can't stomach that sort of thing," Squalo hiccuped out in between snickers.

"Most civilian men didn't stay up well past two in the morning researching how veterinarians perform the operation," the teen dryly commented as Hedwig puffed up her chest in pride. "Long story short, I was thinking how if he was so into his own hype that much, he'd enjoy sucking on his own nether regions. Hence where I got the idea."

"So how'd you avoid getting arrested for pulling that stunt?"

"You have to actually have evidence in order to persecute someone," Hadrian purred as Hedwig gave Squalo the evilest smirk he'd ever seen on an owl's face. "You'd be surprised on how little people pay attention to an innocent-looking, doe-eyed brat."

That made Squalo burst into another laughing fit again.

At this point, Hadrian finally lifted his head to see who it was he was talking to. The sudden movement caused Hedwig to relocate her perch to an available chair near Hadrian.

"By the way, who are you?" Hadrian asked the silver-haired man.

"..."

"..."

Squalo facepalmed. "First lesson, trash. Never let down your guard, no matter what the situation."

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

 _ **DUMBLEDORE'S NEGLIGENCE? THIRTEEN HOGWARTS STUDENTS KIDNAPPED DURING HOGSMEADE WEEKEND**_

 _By Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet Senior Reporter, Special Correspondent_

 _ **KIDNAPPED STUDENTS FOUND AT LAST:**_

 _ **Heroic Aurors Recovered All Thirteen Missing Children**_

 _By Jean Dupont, Daily Prophet Photojournalist_

 _ **HEARTBREAKING DIAGNOSIS OF TOP MEDIWIZARDS!**_

 _By Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet Senior Reporter, Special Correspondent_

 _ **THE CURSED STUDENTS TRAGEDY TAKES A CONTROVERSIAL TURN:**_

 _ **Hogwarts's Idea of "Helping" the "Bloodless" Cursed Students Is Expelling Them**_

 _By Nomen Nescio, Wizarding World News Investigative Journalist_

 _ **MOTION CARRIED OUT BY SCHOOL BOARD:**_

 _ **All Thirteen Bloodless Are Formally Expelled From Hogwarts's Student Roster**_

 _By Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet Senior Reporter, Special Correspondent_

 _ **BLOODLESS IS THE NEW MUDBLOOD?: CURSED STUDENT INCIDENT MAY GIVE RISE TO NEW PREJUDICES**_

 _Luna Lovegood Sheds Light on Her Perspective in One-on-One Interview_

 _ **MAGICAL CORE DRAINING CURSE TAKES ITS FIRST BLOODLESS VICTIM:**_

 _ **What Does Will This Mean For The Wizarding World?**_

 _By Joe Bloggs, Daily Prophet Data Journalist_

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

The Burrow may not seem like the most fortified of headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, but it was the only available stronghold Dumbledore had access to now that Sirius had barred him and the Order from Grimmauld property. After much persuasion, he had managed to convince Arthur and Molly to allow him to conduct an emergency private meeting in their home. Perhaps it may have been cruel of him to take advantage of their lapse in judgement due to grief, but this meeting was for the Greater Good of the Wizarding World.

"Albus, what are we going to do? Poor Neville was one of the victims! How can we expect him to defeat You-Know-Who if he's about to die before the end of the next school year?!" Emmeline Vance wailed in despair.

The old Wizard laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You needn't worry, my dear. While it's a shame that we've lost two boys to unlucky circumstances, I may have found a solution. After a bit of searching here and there, I came across an interesting read."

Reaching into the bag he brought with him, he took out several sheets of parchment bounded by some string. They were yellow with age and looked as though they would crumble to dust at the slightest touch. Even the words written on the ancient pages revealed just how old it was, the ink having been faded due to the passage of time.

This was an unusual sight for most of the Witches and Wizards present. Nowadays, ancient records spanning back centuries could be easily kept as though they had just been written with a few Preservation Charms. However, what Albus had showed them may have existed _prior_ to the invention of those Charms.

Albus carefully passed them over to Minerva who took the papers while giving them a dubious look. Her curiosity aroused, she looked down at the faded front page and slowly read the title to the best of her ability. "...' _Secrets of the Seven Gems_ ' by Lavinia Lockheart?"

"The unpublished remains of an underappreciated Witch's research left to be forgotten to time," he answered easily. "This is how the Light will win the war."

"How will a moth eaten pile of papers help?" Severus sneered dubiously as he flipped through the papers, eyeing both the Headmaster and the research notes with no small amount of distrust. "Half of the contents are missing and the rest you can barely read."

"Inside contains information about _a power that Voldemort knows not_ about. If Witches and Wizards are able to utilize this power, then there may be no need for a Chosen One to defeat him."

"You all have forgotten a few things," Alastor Moody interrupted his old friend. "The majority of Voldemort's Death Eaters are from old Pureblood families. I wouldn't be surprised if one or two of them have a copy hidden somewhere in their family libraries. What's stopping the Dark Lord from strolling into his followers' homes and gaining access to this and more."

"After much deliberation, I have reason to believe that it is an unlikely scenario," Albus concluded confidently. "Firstly, Miss Lockheart only made a handful copies of these notes because she couldn't take the risk to publish her findings as her research was viewed as almost heretical at the time. After she shared her research with a selected group of trusted colleagues, she destroyed the original. It's highly possible that this copy is the only survivor. Another factor, you see, also plays in our favor. This 'Soulfire' power, as Miss Lockheart explained, comes from an unconventional source. "

"Where?"

"Muggles."

* * *

 **AN: To be honest, I had forgotten about Hedwig. Then again, there's currently not much I can do to make her shine like I had in the original. Maybe once Hadrian finally enters the Varia.**

 **Shamal's Kidnapping: Hadrian used the Cloak of Invisibility (Yes, he still has it. He just hasn't had the opportunity to use it until now.) with a healthy dose of Slytherin cunning to catch him off guard. I know, canonically, the Cloak can only protect its user from optical detection and anything else that would affect the Cloak itself. Therefore, it shouldn't have been possible for Shamal, who was scouted as a potential member of the Varia, to not at least hear Hadrian coming. I would like to defend this sudden onslaught of Gary-Stu-ness by having Shamal underestimate Hadrian's capabilities because a) he's a civilian, b) has no training whatsoever on how to professionally kill a person let alone using his Flames for combat purposes, c) assumed that Hadrian wouldn't have the guts to try and hurt him, d) gotten so used to Hadrian that he became complacent with his awareness towards Hadrian's actions, and e) doesn't know that Hadrian had some practice sneaking around to survive (ie. Hogwarts misadventures and Dursleys).**

 **Rocky Mountain Oysters: A North American hors d'oeuvre delicacy consisting of deep fried cattle testicles. For those of you who've read Acedia, you've probably noticed that this idea from the alternate scene omake was recycled into Hadrian's bonding moment with Squalo.**

 **Newspaper Titles: If you're wondering what the heck is going on behind the scenes, there will be a back-to-back series of interludes explaining things from Hadrian's future Guardians POV.**

 **OC Names: All of the non-canon character names in this chapter are various equivalents of "John Doe," aka placeholder names for people. I make it a habit to not name any background characters, especially if they're not all that important and you're not likely going to hear from them ever again.**

* * *

Omake III: Meet the Mother Hen(s)

Lussuria had just found himself a new best friend. She was cold and ruthless to her foes, but with just the right amount of sweetness towards her loved ones to be endearing. She's a bit haughty, but that arrogance is backed up by her dazzling beauty, dizzying intelligence, and a hidden malevolent side waiting to come out at a moment's notice. But what Lussuria liked most of all about his new friend was her creativity when it came to punishing her enemies in the most humiliating, agonizing ways.

"What do you think, Widdy-chan? Does our little canvas have just the right amount of purple or does it need more red?" Lussuria asked the owl after she finished disemboweling the battered form of the man in front of him.

Their current victim was Hadrian's ex-coworker who had tried to frame the teen for theft and assault. The incident escalated to the point where the police were called in. Luckily the investigation proved Hadrian's innocence, but the real culprit was never found. His workplace then decided to fire him in order to save face for their customers, allowing the guilty party to get away scot free at the expense of a teenager.

Unfortunately, the culprit's luck ran out. He didn't take into account that Hadrian Temperanza had some very vindictive friends eager to make him bleed.

At Lussuria's question, Hedwig barked only once in reply as she hopped away from the pathetically crying human. Her amber eyes narrowed as she gave the gurgling human in front of her a wicked glare. Her bloodstained talons scratched at the ground almost impatiently as she carefully cleaned her claws of every drop of blood.

The flamboyant man hummed a little before giving the man a critical look. Then, he nodded and made a small noise of agreement towards the snowy owl. "Oh, you're right, darling!" Then, the martial artist's eyes fell on the man's miraculously still intact teeth. "There needs to be a little less white~!" Lussuria purred menacingly as he tightened his black leather gloves.

A month later, a group of hikers found the horribly mutilated body of Pinco Pallino, aged 36, in a cave. The investigators ruled that his death was an accident. After getting into a bar fight, he stumbled into the forest and had a bad run in with one of Italy's larger birds of prey, which ended up killing him after a few lucky strikes in the stomach and throat.

* * *

 **AN: The omake was an idea inspired by Arekkusu Akuma1. Give them a shout-out for Lussuria and Hedwig's bonding session~!**

 **To be honest, I had a bit of trouble writing this part out. The first few drafts didn't go so well. Originally, the omake was more light-hearted. It was supposed to be Lussuria recording Hedwig and Hadrian having a glaring contest (read: argument) over her pranks on his ex-bosses/douchebag co-workers. However, I fell back into my old habits, and the whole thing felt forced. So I wrote a different omake, and this is the final result.**

 **Once again, thank you, blackkat1325, for all your help.**

 **10/7/2019 Edit: Adjusted some content here and there.**

 **And thank you all for reading this reboot~! Any and all reviews, favorites, and follows are appreciated~! =(** **ゝ** **ω** **･** **)/**


	4. Runaway IV

**Update: I've decided that the next arc after the Runaway Arc will be a series of interludes, which I have taken to uncreatively calling it the Interlude Arc. It should be in the next chapter or two, but that depends.**

* * *

Chapter 4: Runaway IV

Lussuria had only been to his friend's house once before. Hadrian's house was fairly ordinary when it came to traditional houses in Italy: three rooms, two bathrooms, a single couch, and a coffee table in the living room. Even the faded wallpaper and floorboards weren't all that special to look at. As far as he knew, the only personalizations that existed were a small wooden shelf containing thick fantasy-themed books, a large, empty birdcage next to a perch, and a fully furnished kitchen that would've made a professional chef weep in envy. The rest of the rooms were Spartan in comparison.

After picking the lock, Lussuria stepped through the front door and into the living room just as Hadrian exited the bathroom. "Hari-chan~! Long time no see~! Your Sorella is-" The martial artist immediately choked on his words at what he had seen. "WHAT IN HEAVEN'S NAME IS THAT?!" The Varia Sun shrieked in horror now that he got a good look at what the teen in question had done to himself.

The last time Lussuria saw Hadrian, the teen didn't look any different than when he first met him. Emerald-green eyes hidden behind wire frame glasses, a fair skin tone befitting of a foreigner from the United Kingdom, and a head full of messy jet-black hair. Now there is a dramatic difference between the Hadrian of last month and the Hadrian of now. Somehow, the former-Wizard's hair had grown out uncontrollably, making it resemble a massive black tumbleweed that barely fit through the bathroom door. Everything from the nose up was completely covered in dark tangled curls. Even though the teen had shoved his glasses approximately where his eyes should be, the flamboyant man couldn't help but wonder whether or not his friend retained his ability to see with all that hair covering his eyes.

Hadrian shrugged, the movement made the huge ball of hair consuming the upper half of his head jiggle precariously. "I met a guy with long hair the other day, and I thought having long hair might look good on me too."

He figured if his hair was long enough, then it would be a step up from the rat's nest he'd always possessed for as long as he could remember. In reality, it only made his perpetual bedhead worse, even more so when you consider that Hadrian had the bright idea to dump a cup of liquified Cloud and Sun Flames directly onto his hair follicles.

"It...ah...didn't go as well as I thought," Hadrian admitted sheepishly.

"I'll say, dearie…" Lussuria gulped. "Are you trying to style your hair into, um, an afro?"

The former-Wizard sighed. "No… But I do want a change from my usual looks…Help?"

A large part of Hadrian's sudden urge to experiment with his appearance was because he wanted to completely shed his former identity as Harry James Potter once and for all.

As a child, he was "Freak" or "Boy". He was supposed to not exist, taught to never stray from the role he was given, to never question anything, and to take whatever was given to him without expecting anything more out of his worthless life.

As a Wizard, he was "Harry Potter". He was the spitting image of his father but with his mother's eyes, the living embodiment of Gryffindor ideals, an icon to every impressionable young Witch or Wizard, and the protector of peace and prosperity of the Wizarding World.

But now, he was "Hadrian Temperanza". His identity was a blank canvas, waiting to be formulated however he wished it to be. He could explore to his heart's content as well as discover parts of himself he was no longer forced to reject.

Changing his hairstyle was a symbolic act to represent that change.

Lussuria stared at Hadrian's hair thoughtfully as he tried to visualize what he could do to salvage the situation. "Do you know where you keep your hair scissors?"

"Err...I have kitchen scissors?" Hadrian offered.

"..."

"..."

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

In the end, Lussuria had to make due with what he had. He did his best to straighten out the hedge growing out of Hadrian's scalp before he would even think of touching a pair of scissors. The fashion-conscious man's plan was to keep Hadrian's hair long enough for the chaotic curls to become more like windswept waves and bangs to cover up the mostly faded lightning scar that marred his friend's forehead.

While Lussuria did his magic as they chatted, the former-Wizard suddenly asked the Sun Officer an interesting question.

"Hey, Luss. I've been wondering about this for a while…" Hadrian hesitated, "...Have I been using the wrong pronouns for you all this time? You act like a woman even though you're a man. You even use feminine descriptions when referring to yourself. Does that mean you're a 'she' and not a 'he'? "

"On no, dearie, it's not as simple as that." The martial artist informed, "You see, I'm bigender, darling~! That means I am both a man and a woman, even if I do tend to lean more on the feminine side of the spectrum."

"I'm confused. What do you mean by 'spectrum'?"

"Well, let me enlighten you on what gender identity is. Gender identity isn't tied to what reproductive system you have. It's actually one of the most important parts of your individuality. It's how you see yourself and how you decide to express yourself. Contrary to what most might believe, it's not acting, or heavens forbid, _performing_. It's _being_. I could be in a ballgown, and that still won't make me any less of a man just as much as it won't make me any less of a woman even if I wore a tuxedo."

Hadrian fell silent for a few minutes as he took in Lussuria's words. "...How does that work? How did you know? How..." ' _Tell me what I should do._ ' was the unspoken plea that the older man ignored for the teen's own good.

"Hari-chan, I discovered myself when I was just a few years older than you." Lussuria went on, "Yet, for as long as I can remember, I've never felt fully comfortable as a man. All those hyper-masculine traits I'd been raised on had never sat well with me. Instead of pursuing and indulging in dominance and power, I was more comfortable with _nurturing_ others instead, which is largely considered a feminine and perceived as a weak trait for a man to have. During the course of my journey of self-discovery, I came to realize that I could identify as _both_ a man _and_ a woman. After that, it was surprisingly easy for me to let go of the social expectations of gender that's been been with me since the day I was born. I don't have to give up one gender in order to be the other. Realizing that it's okay to be that way, Hari-chan, was one of the most important things that has ever happened to me. These things take time, and there's no rush because the experience varies from person to person."

Hadrian thought deeply about what Lussuria had just said.

As a child, the Dursleys would make it very clear that they were a strict and traditional household. Anything that was even _remotely_ considered "abnormal" was forbidden under their roof. As far as the Dursleys knew, non-heteronormative individuals were as horrendous as the Witches and Wizards of the Magical World. Not right in the head. Sexual deviants. Abominations. Confused, disgusting, cursed, etc. Those were some of the many common phrases and descriptions he'd heard over the years.

That reasoning was the very reason why he'd grown to _loathe_ the word "freak" with a fervent passion. Mostly because he couldn't help but empathize with them more than he had realized. Those people were demeaned for something they couldn't help. For something they loved and wholeheartedly accepted about themselves yet others refused to do the same.

For most of his life, Harry Potter had been constantly stuck in a limbo of uncertainty about where he stood. He was biologically male, yet he wasn't allowed to show any sort of aggression or strength lest he be punished harshly if he so much as made a single sound of complaint. He wasn't supposed to be feminine, yet he would be rewarded with extra scraps of food and then be left alone for being meek and obedient. So the questions persisted:

Which category did Harry Potter fall under? And why did he have to choose between just those two? Why must he be limited to one over the other?

The Wizarding World certainly didn't give him any satisfactory answers, though it did offer a brand new insight adding on to his understanding of sexuality and gender. He had learned through Malfoy of all people that Witches and Wizards were far more liberal than their Muggle counterparts when it comes to tolerance and acceptance. For the most part, any complaints about one's "tastes" were made in regards towards reproductive concerns. For the most part, any form of discussion and/or expression was to be kept secret from the public and reserved for within the privacy of one's home. However, there was a mandatory dominant-submissive binary that must be maintained no matter what form it may take, even in same-sex relationships. "Imbalanced dynamics" only added a far more effective invitation to be criticized and discouraged.

Disappointedly, that perspective only brought forth more questions than answers.

Looking back, Hadrian surmised that it was a carry-over from Wizards adopting societal expectations from Muggleborns who have grown up sheltered from anything that was not "normal" and "socially acceptable".

Hadrian's mental debate with himself was making his head spin. "Why does sex and gender have to be so complicated?" He absentmindedly murmured mostly to himself.

Lussuria shrugged, finally putting down the poultry shears he had been using. "Because they typically are? Hari-chan, trying to understand is one thing, but don't force yourself to conform to mine or anyone else's views. It's supposed to be what you and you alone make of it. Just do what feels naturally and makes you feel the happiest with yourself," the Sun Officer advised.

"What if I still don't know _what_ it is that makes me happy to be myself?" Hadrian countered.

Lussuria smiled at him encouragingly. "It's called questioning, Hari-chan, and it's a step towards discovering who you are."

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

The first time Belphegor met Hadrian Temperanza, Levi had been his partner for a mission, so the two of them took the opportunity to drop by the address Lussuria gave them. However, their first impression of the other teen was that he had guts enough to mouth off to Prince the Ripper and Lightning Strike Levi. The Storm Officer couldn't help but wonder if the other teen was suicidal or if the baby Cloud hadn't been fully aware of their identities at the time.

"I did _not_ get up at _five_ in the fucking _morning_ to deal with your bloodlust. Dial it back a notch or ten and come back after a few hours when my brain stops stabbing itself." Levi never got the chance to react to the lack of respect given to him by the brazen teen before the door loudly slammed into his gobsmacked face.

Unable to resist the opportunity given to him, Belphegor quickly whipped out his phone and snapped a few photos of the Lightning Officer's face. Mammon always paid a sizable reward for new blackmail fuel.

The second time Belphegor met Hadrian, it had been an ambush. The young Varia Storm figured that the best way to see if the former-Wizard had anything he could work with was to attack him out of nowhere. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it), Hadrian had something that proved himself worthy of the attentions of the Varia's Prince the Ripper.

Hadrian had naturally fast reflexes. Really fast reflexes. _Quality_ reflexes.

The Storm Officer surmised that it was due to the other teen's background as a seeker as well as inheriting James Potter's impressive Quidditch skills, but there were other factors that contributed to Hadrian's ability. A "rough" childhood (to put it lightly) would have given the former-Wizard ample opportunity to "train" himself to react quickly.

After the ambush, Belphegor confirmed his findings shortly before things escalated into an intense mock fight that ended in the Storm's favor. While the green-eyed boy barely lasted a handful of minutes before being completely outclassed by the more experienced assassin, the exiled prince did notice that Hadrian could detect attacks faster than the average civilian. His body, at its present state, was unable to keep up with his mind, but combined with Squalo's sword fighting lessons and the right training to bring out his full potential, the other teen could become a force of nature.

To satisfy his curiosity, though mostly out of boredom, he half-heartedly tossed one of his knives in Hadrian's direction as the other boy was cooking in his kitchen, wanting to see how Hadrian would react. He figured it would give the dark-haired teen a scare or at least make Hadrian feel wary of Belphegor afterwards. Most people instinctively dodged incoming sharp objects, but not in the former-Wizard's case. Not even pausing in his cooking, he deftly snatched it out of the air. Instead of reacting with fear, Hadrian reacted with a Supremely Done With Your Shit™ gaze.

Intrigued, the blond teen kept throwing knife after knife at Hadrian. With each throw, the deadly blades flew faster and faster at the other teen's vitals, and every time, the black-haired teen easily caught all of them without so much as batting an eyelid.

"I hope you're not too attached to your knives because I'm going to keep these and not give them back," the former-Wizard drawled to the Storm after the 25th knife.

"Ushishishi. They're copies anyways. Now where's my sushi?" Belphegor demanded.

"Hope you like American," Hadrian replied cheerfully as he brought out a large serving tray carrying plates of Philadelphia rolls, spam musubi, California rolls, and Pink Lady rolls. Everything looked delicious and ready to eat, however, there was just one tiny problem. There wasn't a single gram of eel.

Earlier today, the Storm Officer had stopped to collect some high quality Japanese eel imported straight from the waters of East Asia. Belphegor had been craving sushi lately and Hadrian was the best cook he'd ever known. So he had brought it over to Hadrian's and asked (read: demanded) that Hadrian make sushi.

The blond glared at the other teen through his bangs as he came out of the kitchen with his own meal. "The prince brought you the eel for a reason, peasant. Now, where's my unagi?"

Hadrian merely raised an eyebrow as he sat down. "You have your lunch, and I have mine."

A familiar savory scent of grilled meat wafted over towards Belphegor. His eyes fell down towards the bowl the dark-haired teen was about to take a bite out of. The bastard's lunch was a fucking unagi donburi (grilled eel rice bowl).

"Ka-ching!" The thoroughly pissed off Storm Officer threw about a dozen knives at Hadrian's vitals only to be blocked by the serving tray. The other teen in return proceeded to try and cave Belphegor's head in with said knife embedded tray. After that, things devolved into yet another intense sparring session.

Fifteen minutes later, the two teenagers calmed down enough to dig into their food (although the unadon had to be reheated after it went cold).

Halfway through their meal, Hadrian brought up something he had been contemplating since Belphegor first ambushed him. "I think I need armor or something. Something that would compensate for my weaknesses."

"Your greatest strengths are your agility and precision," the other teen pointed out and continued. "If we can build up your stamina to acceptable levels, you can, in theory, outlast your opponents and take them down by targeting their weak points. Downside is that your body is already predisposed towards low endurance, meaning your resistance towards damage is not good. Body armor would be your best bet. Problem is that it's going to weigh you down, and your mobility would be compromised."

"What if the armor is made of something lightweight? Like say, snakeskin?" Hadrian suggested.

Belphegor replied, "What is the peasant talking about?"

Hadrian briefly excused himself and went to his room. Minutes later, he came out carrying a large trunk in his arms. Setting it down on the floor, he opened it up and rifled through it for a few moments before he finally located the item he was looking for. What the green-eyed teen had pulled out made Belphegor's eyes widened large enough that his eye color could be clearly seen through his thick blond bangs. The sushi piece he had been chewing on fell out of his open mouth and onto his lap with a wet "plop".

"How…? What…?" Belphegor sputtered in shock. "WHERE IN THE GODS' NAME DID YOU GET A _BASILISK SKIN_?!"

Hadrian blinked at the Storm's exclamation before quickly becoming suspicious. "How'd you know this came from a Basilisk? What if this came from a crocodile or a really big boa?"

"Tch. As if some common reptile could measure up to the King of Serpents! I'd recognize Basilisk shedding anywhere." Belphegor scoffed as he snatched his napkin from the table to clean himself up. "Once a year, the royal family of Magical Prussia would receive the shedded skin of the House of Visconti's pet Basilisk as tribute. That thing is the reason why the Duchy of Milan's coat of arms has featured a giant snake since 1277."

"You're really a prince? And here I thought you were a dedicated roleplayer," the dark-haired teen cried out in mock surprise.

"Ka-ching! You should bow down to me, _Lordling_!" Belphegor spat out, adding emphasis to Hadrian's new derogatory nickname. "I am the second prince of Magical Empire of Prussia. My kingdom's domain stretches from the edges of the Russian tundra to the coastlines of Greece," the blond bragged with no small amount of arrogance.

However, that wasn't what caught the former-Wizard's attention. "M-Magical? You mean you're a Wizard-" Hadrian babbled as his anxiety levels skyrocketed.

"Squib," Belphegor interrupted Hadrian to correct the other teen. The correction made Hadrian relax a little...but not much. "Before you jump to conclusions, I already knew that your real identity is Harry Potter long before we met. I won't ask how you're still alive even though you were declared to be dead by the British Ministry less than two years ago." The young Varia Officer then gave the former-Wizard a knowing look before adding, "And to be honest, what goes on in that backwards island is none of my business."

"...Just out of curiosity… Belphegor is your codename in the Varia, right? What's your real name?" Hadrian asked.

The teenaged Storm scoffed. "Way too many middle names and syllables for me to tell you. I doubt your British tongue could even pronounce it anyways."

The dark-haired teen hummed in acknowledgement and didn't pry any further as he went to his refrigerator to grab his pitcher of Rain-infused iced tea.

"So rumor has it that you killed a Basilisk when you were a First Year student. That's how you got the skin, right?" Belphegor brought up, completely changing the subject of the conversation. "What about the rest of Basilisk? Don't tell me you forgot about the rest of the carcass? The potion ingredients harvested from a Basilisk are worth a fortune, you know?"

"It was my Second Year, and I did have the rest of the carcass rendered." The former-Wizard corrected before adding, "I have heard that Basilisks make very rare and highly valuable raw materials, so before I left Britain I figured I could bribe the Goblins to get me far far away from the Wizarding World and keep people from forcing me to go back. I was more than right."

From an outsider's perspective, Hadrian might as well have overpaid in order to get a simple job done even if it barely put a dent in his overall inheritance. Discounting the Basilisk corpse, the Goblins were given the gold in his trust fund vault, copies of the books left behind by Salazar Slytherin hidden within the Chamber of Secrets, and all the shedded skin littered throughout the Chamber over the centuries. It was a once in a lifetime deal they couldn't pass up.

"Ushishishi, were they drooling when you showed them the carcass?" Belphegor smirked in bemusement as he returned to his meal.

Hadrian shook his head as he carefully folded the skin. "No, but Griphook my account manager, stopped breathing for about two minutes, and their king, Ragnok almost passed out from shock. If you combine the skin from the carcass itself as well as the skin it has shed for the last thousand years, it was more than enough to cover every Goblin warrior in Gringotts. They gave me this leftover skin as an 'incentive' to continue my patronage with them rather than transfer my assets over to the Monaciellos."

The Monaciellos were the Italian counterpart of the Goblins of British Wizarding World. These Magical Creatures resembled short and stout humanoids wearing a hooded robe. They weren't that much taller than a small human child. These benevolent fairies were the sole managers of Italy's Ullio Wizarding Bank, through which a Witch or Wizard could access their fortune by seeking them out in an abandoned church or monastery.

"Ushishishi. Leave it to the ' _Chosen One_ ' of England to be Varia Quality in achievements even if his skills are lacking," Belphegor drawled.

Hadrian frowned in confusion, "Varia Quality? What do you mean by that?"

The blond blinked. "...Are you really asking me that?"

"What? Is it some sort of slang or code I'm not aware of?"

"I thought Lussuria said you're aware of what goes on in the Mafia World."

"...I'm a civilian. I've probably been 'aware' for about six months give or take," Hadrian deadpanned.

Belphegor sighed and mentally prepared himself to play the knowledgeable senpai for his soon-to-be kohai. "Basically, the term, Varia Quality, refers to when an individual meets the basic requirements to be considered a possible recruit of the Varia. The requirements are as follows:

"One: you must be an assassin or, at the very least, have killed before (we _are_ an organization of killers for hire after all).

"Two: you must possess Active Flames (that's a no brainer).

"Three: you must know a minimum of seven languages (we do get the occasional mission outside of Italy).

"Four: you have to be a genius in some form or another.

"And finally, you must swear your loyalty to the Boss," Belphegor finished explaining.

"So… In my case, requirements one and two are pretty much covered," Hadrian said, recalling Quirrel in his First Year. "Number three is a work in progress." He could knock off English and Italian as two out of the seven languages he needed to learn, but he was still unsure if he should include Latin. "As for number four, I don't think that applies to me, and the last requirement is put on hold indefinitely until I've at least _met_ your Boss in person." He wanted to see whether or not this Xanxus person was someone Hadrian could follow for the rest of his life. The last thing he wanted was to be chained to a role he couldn't escape from this time around.

Belphegor snorted at the other teen's reasoning for number four. Technically, he had already met the requirement just by possessing Cloudy-Sky Flames, an extremely rare and virtually unheard of combination.

"Before we get even further off topic, Basilisk skin is a wise choice for armor. Durable, impenetrable, and, if handled by the right tailor with the right skills, flexible, which will help a lot given your fighting style. There's only one in the Vongola who might take you up on it, but it'll take a while for us to reach him as he's been a recluse since Donna Ottavo's funeral," the Storm Officer explained as Hadrian returned to the table.

"Who?"

"Talbot."

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

For years, Mundungus Fletcher had lead a life of petty crime. Ever since he had dropped out of Hogwarts, he'd made a living stealing treasures from unsuspecting Witches and Wizards and selling contraband items in Knockturn Alley. However, that all changed ever since the Second Wizarding War escalated after the death of the last Bloodless, Astoria Greengrass. His crimes also escalated as if in accordance to how desperate Albus was to win the war.

Rather than stealing people's valuables and pocket change, he was now trafficking something much more valuable…

Muggleborn Soulfire candidates.

Zhang San was Mundungus's current target. He was a British-Chinese teenager born from the union between an unnamed Irish father and a Chinese mother rumored to have criminal connections. He was abandoned by his mother in his biological father's country when he was still a toddler and grew up under the foster system. To the perspective of Muggles, Mister San was just another pitiful orphan boy struggling to find his place in the world. But to Albus Dumbledore, he was much more than that. His Soulfire Aspect was Emerald, the mark of a protector who wouldn't hesitate to defend at all costs.

It was disturbingly easy tracking down those who fit the necessary requirements like Zhang San. Male, young, born between the months of July and August, either a Muggle or descended from a Muggle, and most importantly, a high chance of Soulfire awakening.

The potential recruits ranged from as young as thirteen to as old as twenty-one. Any younger and they wouldn't be able to utilize their Soulfire in duels. Any older and it would take time that they didn't have to try and convince them to join the Light's cause. After the first few attempts, the Order managed to figure out the appropriate age range for recruitment.

Once taken via Apparation, they were dropped off in one of the many hidden rooms in Hogwarts that could only be accessed through the Headmaster's Office. There were only about a dozen spaces available to be filled at a time. The hidden rooms were fully furnished not unlike the school dorms and a House Elf or two was assigned to take care of the occupant's every need with strict orders to not be seen no matter what.

Understandably, the Soulfire candidates were resistant and/or unsure about their new roles. Everyday Albus would venture down to a Soulfire candidate to try to persuade them to fight for the Light's cause. For the most part, the candidate's stay could be as short as a few days or as long as almost an entire month. By the time they left as "recruits," they were more than willing to _die_ for the greater good of the Light.

Mundungus was half sure that Albus may have resorted to using Spells and Potions to weaken the candidate's will in order for them to dance to his tune, but he never bothered to confirm nor did he care to.

As he left with his payment for dropping off his target, he overheard Albus address himself to the young man, "Good morning, my boy. Would you like a lemon drop?"

Not a bad day's work for 200 Galleons.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

"Sir, we've confirmed that Sun Officer Lussuria, Rain Officer Squalo, and Storm Officer Belphegor have been regularly rendezvousing with civilian Hadrian Temperanza. Lightning Officer Levi and Mist Officer Mammon were also seen with Temperanza as well."

"And the boy's background check?"

"Mist Officer Mammon conducted it personally. I've confirmed that they investigated Temperanza thoroughly. He's as clean as the typical civilian. No affiliation to any of the Vongola's enemies nor the Famiglia's allies. Should we move to create an extermination order for Temperanza?"

"No. Leave them be. For now. Dismissed."

...

"So Xanxus's little group are so desperate that they've resorted to using a civilian to get rid of me? Well then, if they want everything their Sky had stood for to be destroyed so badly, I'll be more than happy to lend a hand in their eventual destruction."

* * *

 **AN: I have a headcanon that Belphegor has secondary Cloud Flames. Just look at how many knives that boy uses! Where does he keep them all if he doesn't have Cloud Flames?!**

 **Monaciello: In Naples, Italy, there is a legend about a small fairy whose name means "the little monk" in Neopolitean language that takes the form of a short, thick man dressed in a monk's robe and a large brimmed hat. They are said to haunt abandoned abbeys and monasteries and know the hidden underground passageways like the back of their hands. When they're not playing small pranks on people as many fairies do, they appear before people who cannot receive aid by human means. They would silently try to lure the human to them. If the human chooses to follow, they would lead people to hidden treasure, expecting no repayment for their good deed. Rumor has it that a Monaciello living in one's house can guarantee a sudden increase of good fortune. There's even a neat little saying describing this phenomenon: "Forse avrà il Monaciello in casa" (perhaps he has had the little Monk in his house).**

 **Ullio Wizarding Bank: I figured that if "Gringotts" was taken from the word, "ingots," a piece of metal conveniently shaped for the purpose of shaping, remelting, or refining, why not I do the same? I went with "bullion," precious metals in the form of ingots or bars, and snipped away the ends so it sounds Italian-ish…**

 **...I just Googled "Ullio" and found out it's a legit surname… More worldbuilding potential anyone?**

* * *

Omake IV: I'm In Love With The Coco

"I do not have a drinking problem," Hadrian protested as he clutched his strawberry-banana milkshake protectively.

"You drink almost as much as Boss did only, instead of alcohol, it's fruity beverages made from Flame-fed fruits and vegetables," Lussuria pointed out.

"You know I have a medical condition that requires me to have a regular intake of Flames."

"That still doesn't mean that you can down twice your bodyweight in piña coladas on a daily basis! Last I checked, your condition isn't even all that severe. At this rate, you're going to get Flame Drunk!"

"Flame Drunk? That's a thing?" The teen questioned before adding thoughtfully, "Does that mean if I start adding vodka to my mocktails, I can charge at people with the force of an overactive Cerberus puppy on an intruder?"

"Jesus Christ, no!" The martial artist gasped in shock. "Although the other day, you did almost rip out that poor guy's stomach when he tried to steal your thermos."

"It was mango green tea punch and Rain-infused." Hadrian defended himself and then grumbled, "Flame infused food items aren't cheap, you know. I paid good money for that mango."

"What about that one time you thought you could fly with Hedwig and tried to jump off a building?"

"You mean the blueberry mojito? In my defense, I didn't expect I would react to Mist Flames that way…" Hadrian briefly paused for a moment as he reviewed the incident in his head. "...Or maybe it was a weird allergic reaction to the blueberries themselves?" The former-Wizard mumbled mostly to himself.

" _That had Mist Flames?!_ " the martial artist shrieked in horror as the implications hit him hard in the face.

Normally, whenever Hadrian ingested Flames, his body exhibited a minor reaction to the presence of the foreign Flames in accordance to whatever type was introduced to his system. Up until that moment, Hadrian had only had Rain, Sun, and Cloud Flames. Rain made him feel calm and relaxed, and Sun gave him a temporary energy boost. Cloud Flames, however, made no noticable changes, possibly because it was one of his native Flames. So by logic, Mist Flames were theoretically an equivalent to a hallucinogenic to Hadrian.

Then, that would mean...

With lightning-fast reflexes, the older man grabbed hold of his young friend's shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. "Hari-chan, sweetie, I beg of you. Promise your Sorella that you won't drink anything laced with Lightning and Storm without me there to make sure there's no problem whatsoever."

Hadrian raised a curious eyebrow. "Why? What's the worst that could happen?"

" _NO!_ " Lussuria firmly objected.

The next day, Hadrian was fired for suspicions of drug usage as well as creating a massive disturbance at his workplace. After drinking a twelve ounce cup of blended Lightning-infused kiwis and Storm-infused strawberries, the young man proceeded to take over a nearby kitchen by force where he not only cleaned and sterilized everything from top to bottom, but he also cooked an amazing buffet style lunch for everyone. Apparently, the combination of the two Flames enhanced some lingering childhood compulsions Hadrian never knew he had until that incident.

Maybe he should've listened to Lussuria after all.

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 **AN: Oh, Hadrian… you shouldn't have tempted fate by thinking "what's the worst that could happen?" Remember the fruit in chapter 2... Lussuria is now regretting his decision to introduce Hadrian to the ambrosia that is fruity beverages.**

 **Once again, thank you blackkat1325 for editing this for me. See ya next draft~!**

 **10/8/2019 Edit: Fixed up the scenes and added a couple of new sentences.**

 **Thank you all for reading this reboot~! Any and all reviews, favorites, and follows are appreciated~! ( v** **)**


	5. Runaway V

**So a bunch of stuff happened IRL not only on my end, but also on my beta's end. To make up for it, this chapter and the next are longer than the previous chapters,** _ **and**_ **this chapter especially contains a special bonus for you guys. Please do enjoy the following~!**

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Chapter 5: Runaway V

Becoming a restaurant owner had been a spur of the moment decision more than anything. After being fired from yet another eatery business for the umpteenth time, Hadrian decided that if he couldn't hold down a job that was given to him, he should create his own job. So, Hadrian decided to open up a restaurant.

Studiose was something of a sixteenth birthday present to himself. A decently-sized two storey building that had been abandoned for about a decade restored to its former glory and repurposed as a restaurant. The building was strategically placed smack dab in the middle of Mafia territory, meaning not only are the target diners were either connected to the Mafia or Mafiosi themselves but any potential staff should also be cut from the same cloth as well.

Hadrian's first employee was a fellow British boy who went by the name, "Spanner" (whether or not that was actually his real name, nickname, or alias remained to be seen). Initially, Hadrian made him his assistant chef, but after the first few weeks, Spanner ended up downgrading to being a part-time waiter by choice. The younger teen wanted to free up more time for robotics, so Hadrian obliged.

Later, a man named Lancia had seen Hadrian's "Help Wanted" sign and asked if the owner was willing to take on his charges. Mukuro, who was the leader of his small group of friends, was feeling restless, so with his Boss's permission, Lancia figured having a part-time job near Famiglia territory could take the edge off of the kids' distrust and paranoia towards his Famiglia as well as teach them how to socialize with other humans.

Hadrian also took the opportunity to secure the strongest man in Northern Italy as his bartender while he was at it. Only because after seeing how serious Lancia took his wards' care, Hadrian figured he'd be less likely to sell alcohol to those who weren't supposed to drink them (read: minors).

The following week after Studiose's grand opening went smoothly. The next week after that was different.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

Spanner popped into the kitchen and immediately zeroed in on Hadrian. "Hey, chief! There's a group of weirdos asking for you!"

Hadrian briefly paused in his cooking to look up at his part-time waiter. "Weirdos?"

"Yep! There's a baby who demanded a discount on the food. Another is a man with really long, Rapunzel-level, silver hair. Then there's this arse with a prince complex that nearly gutted me. One guy kept complaining about how this place doesn't measure up his boss's standards. And the last one... flirted with me, I think?" Spanner explained to the best of his ability.

Hadrian hummed in thought. "Did the one who hit on you have a shaved head with green floppy bangs?"

"Yes?"

"Then you don't have to worry about Luss. You're not good enough to be dating material for Sorella."

Spanner wasn't sure if he should be offended or relieved by his employer's attempt at reassuring him.

"Here, take this out to table four. I'll handle this." Hadrian reassured his waiter as he handed Spanner a plate of pasta and a bottle of champagne. He turned his attention back to the kitchen and hollered, "Oi, I need to step out for a moment. You know the drill."

"Kufufufufufufufufu."

"Thanks, Mukuro. Remember, don't make anything that doesn't have pineapples in them." Hadrian tossed back as he exited his kitchen and stepped into the dining room.

He didn't have to look very far. Smack dab in the very center of the room, the Varia Officers had claimed the large twelve-seat table for themselves.

"Ushishi. Nice hairpin. Did Luss buy that for your birthday?" Belphegor commented.

Lussuria preened. "Why, yes, I did~! Not for something as elaborate as his birthday, mind you, but I did put a lot of thought into it."

Said lily hair piece was carefully tucked into Hadrian's ponytail. After giving his friend a haircut, Lussuria had dragged Hadrian out to shop for proper hair care supplies at a nearby mall where the Sun Officer had stumbled upon the handcrafted hairpin by chance. It was sequestered in a lonely antique shop located on their way back from the shopping spree and owned by an elderly blind man who had recently moved into the busy city with his pet sheep.

Upon receiving the gift, Hadrian immediately burst into tears. One part grief underneath how happy and grateful he was over the hairpin. Lussuria later learned that the teen's mother once possessed a similar hairpin. It had been a custom-made courting gift from James himself, only the petals of the flower ornament had been purple instead of orange. After Lily's death, the hairpin somehow made its way into the hands of Petunia, who gave it to her nephew on his seventh birthday. However, in an act of unwarranted cruelty, she forced him to destroy the only thing connecting him to his deceased mother at the time and then laughed sadistically at her unwanted nephew's despair.

Hadrian's exasperated voice yanked Lussuria out of his brief flashback. "What in the name of sanity are you all doing here?"

" _Why, Hari-chan~_? I thought we were friends. You didn't really expect any of us to miss your grand opening now, did you?" Lussuria gasped in mock offense.

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to deal with all of you at once. Sweet mother of Persephone, what's the legal drinking age of Italy again?"

"No," Lussuria said bluntly.

Squalo blinked at the harsh response from the usually flamboyant man. "Luss?"

The flamboyant martial artist ignored his fellow Officer. " _No_. Just no, Hari-chan. Stick to your Rain-infused fruit teas," Lussuria told Hadrian before mumbling under his breath, "The world won't survive with _two_ violent alcoholics with Sky Flames."

"Anyways…" Hadrian drew out the word awkwardly. "Isn't it suspicious for all of you to be absent at the same time? I thought we're supposed to keep a low profile."

"Too late. The traitor already found out. He's right over there in the corner watching us." Squalo grumbled, shoving a thumb over his shoulder towards the far end corner of the dining room.

Sure enough, there was a pale-haired, bespectacled man sitting at table four enjoying a plate of pasta and sipping at his flute of champagne. According to what the Varia Officers had described Hadrian's target-to-be as, Ottavio was a shrewd man eager for an opportunity to strike. Yet at first glance, he didn't seem to possess any qualities that made him stand out, especially compared to his fellow Officers' eccentricities.

"Hey, Baby Cloud trash. I doubt the bastard will attack you anytime soon, but don't let your guard down for even a second around him."

"Duly noted. Might as well take requests before I go back into the kitchen. Since I'm in such a good mood, it's all on the house."

"Surprise me, darling~! Oh, and a slice of treacle tart please~!" Lussuria chirped.

"Muu. Mapo Doufu, and make it so that I'm able to eat it," Mammon demanded without pause, not even bothering to take a glance at the menu, let alone touch it.

"Today's special," Squalo said gruffly. The menu said it was mashed potatoes bacon roast, whatever that meant. The silver-haired swordsman had no idea if it meant a pork roast with mashed potatoes and bacon strips on the side or a large slab of bacon meat with some mashed potatoes, but his curiosity (and his appetite) peaked with interest.

"Something with beef. I want to see if your meat dishes are up to the Boss's standards," Levi announced in a challenging tone.

Belphegor flashed Hadrian a smug smirk. "Lordling, fetch me some sushi."

"Try again, Bel." Hadrian rolled his eyes, "Pick something that's actually _from_ the menu, or I'll just give you a plate of raw onions to gnaw on."

The other teenager all but pouted. " _Fine._ Get me your best seafood platter, Lordling."

Hadrian hummed in confirmation as he jotted down their orders. "I'll be back with your food in about thirty minutes, give or take. In the meantime, talk to Lancia about your drinks when he comes by," the young restaurant owner added, signaling the bartender to come to their table before turning towards the kitchen.

' _Let's see. Chikusa can work on Squalo's order while I handle the rest. For Luss, I'm going to need a whole quail. Levi's is trickier, but doable. I think we have enough beef parts to pull it off. Then there's Mammon. They're testing me to see if I can create an edible mapo doufu dish that even a newborn could stomach. That order is way more difficult compared to the others. Maybe_ that _dish? I'll have to get M.M. to do some taste-testing. As for Belphegor…_ '

Pulling himself out of his thoughts the moment he set foot into the kitchen, Hadrian made his way towards the walk-in freezer to get started. "Chikusa, do we have any liquid nitrogen?" Hadrian hollered at one of his chefs.

"There should be a spare canister from Spanner's last experiment!"

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

When Hadrian finally exited his kitchen, he carried a large tray filled with a variety of dishes. "Sorry for the long wait, but your food is finally ready." The teenaged chef announced. Then he proceeded to explain the dishes they ordered as he placed their respective meals in front of them.

"For Sorella, I made you roasted whole quail and poached egg. Next, a dish which, by the way, has been nicknamed the 'Imitation Pork Roast' for Signor Squalo. For Signor Levi, beef bourguignon. For his Obnoxious Highness, Belphegor, I hope the temari sushi satisfies your inflated ego. And finally, one order of Mapo Curry Noodles. Oh, and before I forget, Mammon, try cutting open the meatball on top first before you dig in."

Curry and mapo doufu? The dish sounded like an interesting concept, but would it be edible to them? Mammon took up their fork and decided to take up Hadrian's advice. They cracked open the meatball, revealing a ball of slowly dissolving curry. The contents spilled out, mixing with the mapo doufu below. In spite of their previous doubts, their curiosity towards the taste of the dish won over any wariness. Taking their fork again, they wound up some of the noodles and ate the mouthful. For a whole minute, Mammon remained still like a statue. Then without warning, the infant-sized Varia practically dissolved into a puddle of goo from the pleasure of finally eating their favorite meal for the first time since they were cursed. That state quickly morphed into something primal and savage as they attacked their bowl in a feeding frenzy.

Meanwhile, Squalo eyed his meal suspiciously before stabbing it with his fork. The dish was nothing like he had imagined the so-called "mashed potatoes bacon roast" to be. But when he took a bite of the food, he took back every insult aimed at the chef and his cooking skills. "Madre di Dio," he whispered reverently in a barely audible voice (possibly for the first time in his life).

Despite the minuscule amount of meat, the sauce and meat juices permeated the mashed potatoes. He could see why people who had tried the dish referred to it as Imitation Pork Roast. Everything from the scent, texture, and especially the taste fooled their bodies into thinking they had just consumed a juicy all-meat dish. If you were to blindfold him and fed him this stuff, he'd swear that he was eating an entire chunk of well-seasoned pork meat instead of potatoes covered in strips of bacon.

Next to Squalo, Levi was crying tears of happiness as he savored the honey-infused meat of his meal and quietly marveled at how tender they were. A part of him mourned his inability to share his enjoyment with his absent Boss, but there was a gluttonous side to him that made him hesitate and doubt his ability to go through with the sacrifice of the addicting meal.

"...I demand seconds." Belphegor said as he worked his way through the surprisingly still cold dish.

All of the pieces were arranged in a specific order to be eaten: seafood, salad, main course, and soup. The artful display of the food reminded him of an edible jewelry box. It was like experiencing an entire Japanese banquet on a single plate of sushi cakes.

"Ah, Hari-chan~. You spoil me, really~!" Lussuria cooed upon seeing the familiar dish. The last time he had eaten it, Hadrian had been experimenting on how to cook quail. However, the dish at the time didn't look half as cute as the way it was currently plated in front of him.

Appearance wise, the whole roasted quail next to the poached egg created a mouthwatering display. When Lussuria took up his knife and fork and cut the quail open, the creamy egg and risotto stuffing came spilling out, the vivid yellow color contrasted nicely with the reddish-brown skin of the quail. As soon as he dug into his meal, Lussuria's mouth was instantly assaulted with flavor. The juicy quail meat, sour eggs, mellow rice, and sweet sauce combined with the crunchy texture of the cabbage made him want more.

"So, Levi dear? What do you think?" Lussuria asked the Lightning Officer with a knowing grin.

"Tch. You were right. There, I said it! I admit that I was wrong," Levi reluctantly conceded through a sizable bite of his food. "However, don't think this is going to win me over that easily."

Hadrian wanted to add his two cents (where _did_ Americans come up with their sayings?), but opted to keep his mouth shut. However, it didn't stop him from feeling a little offended that they had ever doubted his abilities in the kitchen.

"Ushishishi. I can't believe we have to drag you here just to prove it. Don't you know that the prince's words are more than enough proof? Oh, and Luss's as well," Belphegor pointed out.

"For me, it took a cup of coffee. One sip was all it took to make me a believer," Squalo added.

"Muu. I've had my suspicions since I did the background check. It's nice to know that my instincts paid off with interest." Mammon chimed in.

"Okay, what are you lot talking about?" Hadrian finally asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

Lussuria was more than happy to answer. "Hari-chan, you can cook with Flames. Do you know how rare Flame Cooking is? On top of which, culinary assassinations are one of the hardest specializations in the Mafia World. You're worth a hundred times your weight in gold."

Flame Cooking isn't as easy as shoving one's Flames into the food or dish and then serving it. It's a rare and highly valuable ability that requires a complete mastery over one's Flames. The traditional route involves a Flame User, who is also an experienced chef, handling ingredients that were already raised on and/or treated with Flames. What makes the entire process such a gamble with not only the chef's life but also consumer(s) of the dish is that a simple mistake like the wrong combination of Flames or the wrong amount of Flames could very well kill scores of diners.

Hadrian, on the other hand, doesn't use the traditional method. Whether it was through a happy accident or not, the teen had discovered that he was able to utilize his Flame Starvation condition into Flame Cooking. Hadrian would ingest Flames prior to cooking, take ordinary ingredients, and then imbue those Flames into the food as he cooked. With this process, Hadrian had created an entirely unique type of Flame Cooking that worked only for him. As revolutionary as Hadrian's method is, replicating it was another matter. If a chef doesn't have adequate control over their native Flames, then the dangers would become exponentially greater than the traditional method because the process is likened to a blood transfusion without proper screening to make sure the blood is compatible with the receiver. Hadrian's Flame-Starved physiology worked to his advantage because in Flame Cooking he was essentially the "filter" that kept foreign Flames from infecting his consumers, leaving only minuscule amounts of purified Flames bleeding into his food.

To date, there have been only two other Flame Cooks in the past thirty years who had successfully carved their own niche within the hitmen circles, Poison Scorpion Bianchi and the late Poisoned Ambrosia Setta. If Hadrian were to become skilled enough to take down his targets through their stomachs, he may very well become the third.

In addition, there's also another element that made Hadrian stand out.

All of the Varia Officers (minus Ottavio, of course) were able to eat Hadrian's previously unfiltered Flame-saturated food long before the teen had gotten the hang of controlling his Flame output and felt nothing but positive consequences. It was a telling sign of high Flame Compatibility. If they were to play their cards right, then Hadrian might become an allied Sky with Xanxus. It was almost a shame that Hadrian wasn't a pure Cloud, otherwise it would be a different story altogether.

"Oh, looks like I can strike off the 'genius at something' requirement on my application to the Varia," Hadrian deadpanned.

Before their conversation could continue, M.M. bounded up to Hadrian.

"Excuse me, boss. The guy over at table four wants to talk to you," the red-haired waitress informed him.

Hadrian let out a long-suffering sigh. Well, he had been curious as to what kind of person this Ottavio guy was.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

It was Hadrian's first time meeting his "target" face to face, and he couldn't help but feel instantly disgusted. He was practically slapped in the face with the Cloud Officer's Flames, which continuously probed at his in a manner that made it seem like they were daring him to give Ottavio an excuse to cut him down on the spot. The foreign Cloud Flames felt slimy and disgusting. Despite how impolite it may be, Hadrian's face reflexively twisted as though he was suddenly submerged in vat of fecal matter fermented in sewage. The backstabbing potential wafting off of him reminded Hadrian of a certain rat probably cozying up to Voldemort back in England.

Judging from the smug grin on the Cloud Officer's face, it was clear that he knew full well that Hadrian would react to his Flames that way.

As part of his preparation to be inducted into the Varia, Mammon had been very thorough in making sure Hadrian was up to date with inter-Vongola politics.

Most people were only vaguely aware of this, but Vongola was currently split up into two opposing factions: Xanxus and the Vongola Nono.

The majority of the older traditional members sided with the current Vongola Don for his decision take what they saw as a loose cannon out of the picture. Meanwhile, the rest criticized Timoteo for denying Xanxus his birthright, illegitimacy be damned. It was well known that he was the most capable out of his brothers and most likely to bring the Vongola to new heights.

However, since the Cradle Affair, Xanxus (and by proxy, the majority of the Varia) had been stuck in a precarious position with not only the Vongola Nono but the rest of the Mafia World as well. Coups were not taken lightly after all. Since then, trust towards the Varia had severely weakened. One wrong move and the entire organization would be forcibly disbanded on the orders of the Nono, so none of the Varia Officers could afford to take any unnecessary risks.

It wasn't until Frederico's charred bones were found that faction loyalty began to tip towards Xanxus's favor. Now everyone was wondering why Xanxus wasn't de-iced yet and questioning why nothing was done after the death of the last two heirs.

But back to the matter at hand.

Why would Ottavio want to scout out his potential killer? The answer was confidence. As the inside man in the Varia, the current Cloud Officer had the ear of not only Timoteo di Vongola but also the ear of Iemitsu Sawada. He wanted to see for himself what the Varia Officers were up to so he could report back to them.

"So you're the little pet project those upstarts have been working on?" Ottavio commented casually as though he were greeting an old friend. He then gestured to the empty chair in front of him, encouraging the teen to take a seat.

Hadrian crossed his arms but remained standing. "And you're the quote 'filthy, slimy, cock-sucking, traitorous motherfucker who deserves to be nommed into mincemeat by Satan's vagina dentata in the deepest depths of Hell' unquote."

Ottavio's condescending smirk twitched slightly in amusement. "I can't tell if those words belong to Belphegor or Squalo."

"Actually, that was Luss."

Ottavio paused for several moments. "What?"

"...Sorella was drunk that day." Ironically, Hadrian learned far more swear words from a drunk Lussuria on their usual dates than from a pissed-off Squalo during their training sessions.

Regaining his composure, Ottavio quickly cleared his throat. "So...any other rumors about me that have reached your ears?"

"From what I've heard, you sold out the man you had sworn your loyalty to in exchange for prestige," Hadrian replied.

"Ah, but you're wrong about one aspect," Ottavio said, treating Hadrian as though he was a small child who had just told him that water was the result of clouds crying. "You see, I never actually 'betrayed' _him_ because my loyalty has always been elsewhere long before that filthy little street rat came into the picture. My actions have always been made with the Vongola's best interests in mind."

"And that justifies alienating three quarters of the Varia? Is there something about Xanxus that makes you hate him so much?"

"Don't get me wrong. I may not like that son of a whore, but I do respect some of the decisions he's made. Some of those changes have done the Varia some good. Take for instance, the requirements to be recruited," Ottavio pointed out. "Did you know that there's no such thing as a 'female' Varia? It's been that way since the reign of the Secundo. Until his bastard throwback came along and made one tiny adjustment on our paperwork." The Cloud Officer shrugged as he continued, "To be honest, I never agreed with the older generation denouncing him for including the option to check 'other' for your gender. Some people just can't appreciate the brilliance of subtlety."

Thanks to that one seemingly insignificant change, their forces had swelled by over twenty percent. With the influx of female assassins in their ranks, the Varia's previously lacking honeytrap division was currently one of the best in the world. Statistically speaking, a good number of their top agents belong in the "other" demographic. But did people like Coyote Nougat or the Vongola Nono care that the Varia was currently the most feared hitman organization of the global underground? No, they cared more about outdated chivalry in keeping the "women" away from the battlefield. Why should they cripple their forces in the name of "tradition"? That kind of chauvinistic logic may have been acceptable decades ago, but it made no sense in the twenty-first century.

Then Ottavio's genial smile morphed into an ugly sneer. "However, what I cannot accept is how some of the changes are slowly becoming a threat to the wellbeing of the Vongola. My fellow Officers whom you've gotten attached to? They forget that the Varia is a part of the Vongola, a branch that deals with a specific role. They don't realize that without the Vongola, the Varia is _nothing_ and would _be_ nothing without their generosity! Their insolence is something I cannot and will not accept"

Hadrian frowned as he slowly took in what the Cloud Officer had just said. "...Okay, that explains a few things, but you still haven't answered my question. What did Xanxus do that made you think that it was a good idea to turn on him? What was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back?"

Ottavio shrugged as he took another sip of his champagne. "I've already given you my side of the story. If you are unable to comprehend my motivations, then that's fine."

Hadrian still wasn't satisfied. He didn't need to be psychic to tell that Ottavio hadn't told him the whole story. There was something about how the Cloud Officer talked about Xanxus that bothered Hadrian. Not once had the older man mentioned Xanxus by name. Was there something deeper that Hadrian had yet to unearth?

For some reason, the conversation reminded Hadrian of something he learned a long time ago.

" _Contrary to popular belief, Flame Rejection doesn't immediately cause Discord. At least, not eight times out of ten. The closest comparison I can think to describe Flame Rejection is a nasty break up. If the Bond is a 'miss', for lack of a better word, the heartbreak will hurt like hell, but you'll live. However, you will be affected by that failed relationship depending on how close you are to that person. With enough time, you will get over it. But just as easy as it is to move on, it's also equally difficult to let go. Those that cannot let go, tend to obsess over that missed opportunity." Mammon explained before quickly adding, "Muu, that'll be 7000 Euros._ "

Could it be that Ottavio was one of those people who never got over Flame Rejection? A lot of his behavior would make a lot of sense.

"Just out of curiosity…" Hadrian began carefully, "...did you fail to Harmonize with Xanxus before?"

The reaction was immediate.

The Cloud Officer's face morphed into an ugly, almost feral-like, look of rage. Ottavio's grip crushed his wine glass into several pieces. The man quickly stood up, practically ready to leap over and strangle the surprised teen before him. The movement nearly knocked the table over, but it did spill what was left of the food onto the formerly pristine tablecloth.

" _ **As if I would**_ **ever** _**want to Harmonize with that bastard son of a whore!**_ " Ottavio snarled out hoarsely in his fury.

Ottavio's old memories of frustration and despair briefly flashed in his mind. He remembered the look on the blond man's face when his Cloud Flames failed to latch onto his Sky Flames. He had tried. He had tried so hard. He gave up _everything_ for that man. His pride, his loyalty, his comrades. All of it he sacrificed on that buffoon's metaphorical altar without a second moment of hesitation just for a chance to stand beside the man he considered to be the one and only leader he'll ever follow. But the Sky that should've been his to drift to had rejected him. The Bond he desperately wanted with that Sky was doomed for failure from the very beginning. 'Too weak,' he had told Ottavio. Despite being Varia Quality… despite all he had given up... his Flames were still not enough, would _never_ be enough for him.

Realizing his faux-pas, Ottavio struggled to rein in his temper, taking several deep breaths in the process. He then gave Hadrian a false smile and said in a strained voice, "My apologies for my outburst. Perhaps I should leave. I believe I've already taken up too much of your time."

Without another word, Ottavio quickly vacated Studiose, leaving Hadrian to absorb the outburst he had just witnessed.

Hadrian didn't like the implications behind Ottavio's anguished words. If his guess about Ottavio was on the nose, then usurping his role as Varia Cloud Officer might be more difficult than he had originally thought.

It was only after a while that Hadrian noticed that the Cloud Officer had never asked for his check.

Damn bastard didn't even bother to pay his bill.

"Hari-chan~!" Lussuria's voice coaxed Hadrian out of his growing fury. "We'll be taking off now~! Thanks for the meal, and congratulations on your grand opening~!"

"Tip's on the table. Food was great, but the place is too dull for my tastes. Not enough excitement, if you ask me." Squalo suggested on the way out.

"Muu, you weren't completely wrong when you said that Ottavio had failed to Harmonize with a Vongolan Sky. You just guessed the wrong one," Mammon supplied as they took back the tip Lussuria left for Hadrian in exchange for the information they gave.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

Deep within the unexplored regions of Hogwarts, the Order of the Phoenix patiently waited for the return of some of their members in one of the empty chambers littered throughout the castle. A while earlier, they had just received a Patronus begging for backup as something had gone wrong with their mission. Unfortunately, the message had been cut off before any more information could be sent. Despite the urgency, Albus refused to send help. His reluctance was due to the Order's dwindling numbers and the high-risk possibility of being led into a trap due to misinformation.

The door to the chamber flew wide open, revealing a solemn Albus and frantic Minerva McGonagall, who announced, "They're back."

Kingsley Shacklebolt rose to greet his comrades. He flinched upon realizing that they were missing a member of their party. Did something happen in their latest skirmish against the Death Eaters?

"What happened to the girl? Is she alright?" Shacklebolt said as soon as his comrades came through the entryway.

"She's dead," Charles "Charlie" Weasley replied grimly. "She suddenly collapsed in the middle of a duel. By the time we got to her… Well, just see for yourself." He gestured to the body bundled up in Transfigured cloth Levitating behind him.

Hestia Jones gingerly pulled back the sheet, only to recoil at the indescribable horror before her. What laid underneath was barely recognizable as a human being anymore. "Morgana's womb! That's the worst case of Ruby Rot I've ever seen!"

Mundungus sniffed at the corpse. "At least she lasted longer than all the other Rubies."

Ruby Rot was the name given to the condition people with Ruby Aspects were afflicted with after a certain amount of time. In a matter of weeks after their Awakening, their bodies began to slowly disintegrate. In the most severe cases, their symptoms affected them internally rather than externally, decaying the victims from the inside out. This was exactly what happened to what's left of the person in front of them.

"Hey, does the room feel a bit cold to you?" Hestia shivered.

Charlie frowned in confusion. "No? ...Now that you mention it, there're goosebumps all over my arm. I thought it was the stress finally getting to me lately."

Not too long after Charlie said that, black fire suddenly appeared out of nowhere. The fire quickly spread throughout the room, but it did not burn. Instead it came with a pungent smell of sulfur and rot. Yet another sign that the black fire was of supernatural origins, just not one of Light Magic. From the vortex of dark flames, emerged humanoid figures sporting copious amount of bandages, ragged cloaks, and oddly enough, top hats.

"Everyone get behind me!" Albus ordered as he immediately sprang into action, throwing himself between the Dementor-like creatures and his subordinates. Pointing his wand at the intruders he let out a mighty roar of "Expecto Patronum!"

Rather than fleeing from the powerful defense spell, none of the creatures moved an inch. One of them made a small noise, almost like a disappointed sigh as it crossed its bandaged arms. "...Really? The Vindice comes for you, and your first instinct is to stand there, throw an illusion of an exotic bird at us, and not even _try_ to run away?"

"They're not Dementors?!" Tonks cried out.

"Wizards." Another one of the "Vindice" creatures informed its comrades.

" _British_ Wizards." The one next to it stressed as though the explanation made more sense.

"Ah, that explains it." The smallest of the so-called Vindice nodded its oversized head from its perch on the shoulder of the largest of the Vindice.

"Who are you? And _what_ are you?" Alastor Moody demanded, this magical swirling furiously at each of the cloaked and bandaged beings.

"We are the Vindice of Vendicare Prison. We uphold the Omertà and the laws surrounding it," the smallest Vindice declared, apparently these unknown Dark Creatures' leader. "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, you have committed a grave offense by violating the Omertà to the following civilians: Jan Elckerlyc, Anders Andersen, and Max Mustermann. However, some leniency will be granted as none of you truly belong to the Mafia. But punishment will be dealt out. In exchange for our mercy, the Vindice will collect only the ones responsible for the acts. Should you repeat your offense, you and every single one of your associates will be taken to the Vendicare."

With that declaration, the Vindice's chains were quickly wrapped around Tonks, Kingsley, and Alastor.

"WAIT! You cannot take them!" Albus cried, readying his wand to cast a Stunner.

"You have no power to prevent us from carrying out our justice," the leader of the Vindice creatures spoke, a tiny hint of amusement coloring his unearthly voice.

"At least let me negotiate!" Albus pleaded desperately. "Our people still need them! What if I were to offer up a trade? Right here, right now! Anything you want!"

"Oh? And what do you have to offer to _us_? We cannot be bribed. We cannot be influenced by any authority but by the laws we uphold. Power and material possessions mean nothing to us. What can you do to dissuade us from carrying out our duty?"

For several moments, Albus thought carefully. What could he do to appease these Dark Creatures? No amount of Galleons would interest them. No amount of political influence would sway their minds. If the Vindice had come for the so-called violators of this Omertà creed, then would an equivalent exchange work on them?

Finally, Albus made his decision. "A life for a life. If I were to suggest a trade, three of our condemned in exchange for their freedom, will you accept?"

"It's a start. However, the sacrifice cannot be just any random prisoner. You may only select those who belong under your command to take the place of these three."

Albus winced. That was an even harder decision to make. Could he bring himself to ask anyone in the Order to take the place of Moody, Tonks, and Shacklebolt? He looked to the three as they were still struggling in their bonds. Poor Tonks was frightened out of her wits, but there was still a hardened glint of determination in her eye. Her features were completely white from her fear even as she desperately tried to get away from her captors. Alastor snarled through the chain covering his mouth as he twisted vainly in their grasp. Out of the three, Kingsley was the calmest, testing the chains bound tightly around his person as he observed Albus's interactions with the Vindice leader.

A thought struck Albus. He can't afford to lose any of them. This may be the only chance Albus has to save their souls. Perhaps, he could later repeat this experience, only this time he would also save the three he would be forced to condemn.

"...What if the ones I have in mind never formally removed themselves from my organization? Three disloyal men in exchange for their release." Albus inquired after a shaky breath.

The captured Witch and Wizards all made startled noises and ceased their struggling. Surely, Albus wouldn't dare take up the Dark Creature's offer.

"It is acceptable, but still not enough. What else do you have to offer?"

The old Headmaster of Hogwarts looked up at the Vindice and closely examined them. He took in the intimidating aura, the heavy scent of rot, the tattered cloaks, bandaged features, black fire, and thick chains.

"Your general appearance and demeanors remind me that of Dementors. Tell me, are you lacking in numbers in any way?"

"What are you getting at, old man?" The largest Vindice drew closer towards the ancient Wizard, allowing the leader to be almost face-to-face with Albus.

Good. He has piqued their interest. "One year. With a quota of at least one each month, any and all Dementors my subordinates are able to capture within the span of that time are handed over to you to do as you please," Albus proposed with confidence.

"Five." The leader countered, "Raise your quota to five, and you've got yourself a deal."

Albus heard Minerva let out a horrified gasp. He didn't blame her. Capturing even _one_ Dementor was not an easy task. Twelve in a year was feasible as it would give them time to prepare while still leaving a little wiggle room to fight in the war. But, _sixty_? If they were lucky, they could hit two owls with one Stunner. The Death Eaters might bring along a Dementor or two during their confrontations, but how often does that opportunity crop up?

"...We have an accord," Albus reluctantly said. He didn't have any other options.

"Wait, Bermuda. I believe the Wizards have a spell that forces them to keep their word under the threat of death. Better to make absolutely sure they won't be going back on their word than come back to deal with the headache when they do refuse to carry out their end of the bargain," one of the Vindice pointed out. In response, all of their fellow Vindice sounded their approval towards the idea.

Albus visibly deflated at the mention of the Unbreakable Vow. No matter how he looked at it, there was no way for him to talk himself out of the situation. The only solace he had was that it seemed these Dark Creatures were seeking to take prisoners instead of lives. Perhaps after Voldemort's defeat, he could bargain for their release someday. Eventually, they would forgive him for his actions once all is said and done. Sacrificing a few pawns in exchange for more useful and valuable pieces are a necessity if one was to win after all. The Greater Good of the Wizarding World far outweighed the few lives destroyed along the way.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

Daphne Greengrass hadn't been sleeping well ever since the death of her little sister.

Since birth, Astoria had suffered the Blood Malediction Curse passed down from one of their ancestors. The Healers had predicted that she would be lucky to make it to her forties. Unfortunately, she had never lived past the age of thirteen because Astoria had been one of the thirteen Bloodless.

Astoria Greengrass had fought tooth and nail for her life until she was the last to succumb to Magical Core Draining Curse. All the Healers praised her for surviving as long as she had. Nearing the last days of her life, she watched as one by one the hospital beds in St. Mungo's became empty, and the corpses of her fellow Bloodless piled up in the morgue. All the praises sounded like jeering to her ears, a cruel reminder that she would eventually be added to the growing number.

"I want to survive." That modest wish was one she would make on every birthday. A hopeful prayer to the Greengrass patron god of Healing Magic, Asclepius. A prayer to not let the Blood Malediction Curse take the youngest Greengrass too early. However, it was on her thirteenth birthday that she decided to amend her usual wish in response to her new status as a dying Bloodless.

"I want to live."

After the funeral, Daphne had to beg and plead to her devastated parents in order for her to return to school. She didn't want to stay in the same place that reminded her too much of her dead sister. She also didn't want to wallow in her despair because she knew that wasn't what Astoria would've wanted. In the end, they finally conceded with a heavy heart.

"Professor Snape? I've run out of Sleeping Draught. May I have a few―" Her last sentence died in her throat as she took in what was inside the Head of Slytherin's Office. "P-P-Professor Snape?!"

Everything was in ruins. The desk was nothing more than a pile of splinters. Almost every inch of the office was coated with the residues of past potions and potion ingredients. The large bookcase had fallen over, scattering dozens of rare books and countless of papers across the floor to soak up the mess created from the liquids. If that wasn't enough, the broken remains of bottles and vials made the area a hazardous mess. If the Weasley Twins were still around, Daphne would've thought they were the cause of whatever chaos had transpired in this room. However, the deep gashes on the stone walls, charred pitmarks, and still smoldering black fire made it evident that it wasn't a mere prank of a vengeful student.

Daphne didn't have to be as booksmart as Hermione Granger in order to take a guess on what had happened to the Potions Master. Someone or something had kidnapped him.

.

.

.

 _ **A rook for a rook.**_

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

Somewhere in Germany, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were enjoying their time away from England, living in one of the many vacation cottages owned by the Blacks.

"Moony, do you think we should get a pet or something?" Sirius asked his longtime friend as they finished up breakfast.

Remus looked up from his book. "Now that I think about it, things have been quieter around the house since the kids left. But no, there's no need to adopt a pet. You and Buckbeak are more than enough."

"Haha, very funny."

"Speaking of the kids, I wonder how they're all doing in Italy."

"Maybe we should pay them a visit. There should be a family villa or two somewhere in Milan."

"I highly recommend stopping by Vendicare Prison. All of our previous guests say that it's a place they could get used to." A dark voice interrupted them.

Immediately, Remus and Sirius were surrounded by a cold, oppressive atmosphere not unlike the foreboding aura that followed Dementors. Sirius and Remus never got the chance to react, let alone scream before the two men were completely engulfed in black flames.

The last thing they heard as they were dragged off to their fates was the rattling of chains.

.

.

.

 _ **A knight for a knight.**_

 _ **And a bishop for a bishop.**_

* * *

 **AN: What...have...I...** _ **DONE**_ **?!**

 **Studiose: To seek delicacies and better quality of food in order to satisfy your sense of taste is one of the five ways to commit gluttony, according to Pope Gregory I (or St. Gregory the Great). In** _ **Summa Theologica**_ **, St. Thomas Aquinas later dubs it as Studiose, to commit gluttony by seeking food that is too daintily or elaborately prepared.  
(Editor's note: it means "zealously" in Latin.)**

 **Varia's orders: Hadrian's recruitment scene was changed up a little in favor of establishing more ground as a Varia-member-to-be. For those of you who haven't touched my previous version, all of the Varia's orders are borrowed from Shokugeki no Soma.**

 **Tainted Ambrosia Setta: Guess who~? Hint: not actually dead, is a canon character in KHR, and will make an appearance in a future chapter. Virtual onigiri to those who've guessed it~!**

 _ **ED: The author had a note here, but the editor thought it was too much of a hint. Hmm… The editor wonders who the blond is.**_

* * *

Omake V: Eyes of the Storm

Belphegor glared at the snow white creature in front of him through his thick bangs.

Hedwig half-heartedly stared back, only cocking her head sideways with a curious hoot as if she was inquiring what the boy was up to.

A while back, Hadrian had introduced his pet owl to them. The snowy owl never failed to rub her superiority in their faces, continuously snubbing them as though they weren't even worthy enough to kiss her blindingly white tail feathers. It didn't help that Hadrian seemed to make it his mission to spoil the bird rotten.

Tired? Hadrian was extra enough to install a small house that was not only made out of mahogany wood with gold leaf decal but also carefully crafted to resemble an elaborate household shrine.

Hungry? The bird was regularly fed on a diet of the choicest of pork belly cuts and premium owl treats.

Get into too many fights lately with a certain royal pain in the neck who made Hedwig his self-proclaimed rival? In mere minutes, Hedwig could be fully outfitted with battle claws, knife-like attachments on her wings, and a metal helmet that protected most of her face. (Where and _how_ Hadrian got his hands on _owl armor_ was a mystery even to World's Greatest Infobroker.)

So why were Belphegor and Hedwig having a staring contest? The answer was surprisingly simpler than one may think. Hedwig was bored, and Belphegor wanted to knock the haughty snowy owl down a peg or two (or maybe a dozen) without an enraged Hadrian wanting to stuff him in a meat bun and cook him alive.

"Muu, Bel blinked," Mammon announced. The declaration set off loud cheers and groans respectively.

"Mammy, you _traitor_!" Belphegor wailed in frustration.

"I had 500,000 Euros on you losing to the bird." Mammon shamelessly bragged as they went around collecting their winnings.

The Mist Arcobaleno felt something sharp tap their shoulder a few times. Turning around, they came face to face with Hedwig's outstretched talons. Hedwig let out a demanding bark, turned her claws upward, and wiggled them expectantly.

Mammon blinked as they carefully processed the action. "You… want a cut?"

Hedwig puffed out her chest and cooed in confirmation. This caused the infant-sized Mist to grumble out profanities in Romanian as they reluctantly parted with a tenth of their profits. Snatching up her prize daintily, the snowy owl made a show of leafing through the sizable pile of Euros as she counted them.

"Ka-ching! When I get my hands on you, I'm having your wings for dinner!" The young Storm Officer let out an incoherent roar and threw a handful of knives at the avian. Said bird nimbly dodged the flying projectiles as she flew far away from his reach.

Hedwig let out a series of short rapid coos, laughing at the poor blond's misery. " _Foolish hatchling. You're a hundred years too early to beat the Queen of the Skies,_ " the snowy owl mentally gloated as she left to search for her owner. She had pocket money to burn and premium bacon to spend it on.

* * *

Omake VI: Business As Usual

"What...Is...This?" Hadrian demanded as soon as the head chef handed him the plate he was supposed to take out.

The head chef sniffed. "Today's special, boy."

The dish (if you could even call it that) was supposed to be some sort of ground beef calzone but resembled more like a urine-soaked diaper with diarrhea spilling out of its seams. It not only looked unappetizing, but Hadrian was pretty sure the calzone hadn't been cooked nearly as long as it should have been. The longer he looked at it, the more he thought that the still pink meat was still _breathing_.

" _This_ is not food. Not even stray cats would dare come near this mess."

"Good thing the cats aren't eating it then. Now go and serve it up to the table four," the head chef said dismissively.

Hadrian was taken aback at the lack of care put into this. "...Ar-Are you serious? You really want to serve people _this literal plate of shit_?"

"Kid, it's the lunch rush. People'll eat anything if they're hungry. Trust me, a little bit of oregano and a dash of garlic powder, and nobody will complain about how it looks."

"...Are you high?" Hadrian asked, bewildered by the chef's attitude towards the situation. "Because what have you been bloody smoking that's making you so fucking delusional?"

"What are you getting your panties all twisted up for? We're not a five star restaurant so we're allowed to slip every now and then. Now hurry up and serve! I have five more plates of this all ready."

" _ **I'm done**_." Hadrian said with finality, unable to put up with this restaurant's unbearable practices anymore than he had to.

"Hey! If you don't come back right now, you can forget this month's paycheck!" The manager barked upon seeing one of his waiters walking out.

"Funny you should say that when you always 'conveniently' forget payday until well into the next week!" Hadrian retorted over his shoulder.

As Hadrian stormed out, he almost bumped into a blond-haired teenager. Although he was a handful of centimeters taller than the dark haired teen, he looked like he was somewhere Hadrian's age, maybe just a little younger. The other teen also had an aura of listlessness, like his passions lay elsewhere.

Sweet Persephone, that's so relatable.

"Oh, sorry about that." Hadrian said before advising, "If you're here for the waiter job they're offering, then can you wait a couple more days until a spot has cleared up? I'm going to quit soon, and I'm planning on going out with a bang."

The boy blinked. "Is this place really that bad?"

Hadrian snorted. "Don't judge a book by its cover. Sure, the place _looks_ nice, and the servers are friendly, but everything else? The bloody owner doesn't give his employees' paychecks on time, the chefs spend more time bragging how they've trained under some of the world's greatest chefs than actually cooking and the food... Bloody fucking hell, everything they make is microwaved, frozen, prepackaged, and/or at _least_ a month past the expiration date."

The other teen noted Hadrian's familiar accent and choice of swear words. "...Are you from the UK?"

Hadrian jolted at the unexpected question and eyed the blond warily. "...Surrey," he carefully admitted.

The taller teen immediately lit up. "Really? I was born and raised in London until my gramps moved us to Italy five years ago." For as long as he could remember, he had never met a fellow Englishperson around his age who could relate to him. Sure, there was the occasional tourist from Cornwall or Cheshire, but it just wasn't the same because they don't know what it's like to be an immigrant from the United Kingdom.

The dark-haired teen felt himself relax a little. "Hadrian Temperanza," he introduced himself.

"Call me Spanner," the blond said, taking out a wrench shaped lollipop out of his pocket and handed the candy to his new friend.

Hadrian took the homemade candy, then he gave Spanner a speculative look. "Say, you're looking for a job, right? Mind if I hire you to do something that'll get me blacklisted from most if not all of the restaurants on this block?"

"Only if you pay me more than five Euros an hour."

"How about I make it fifteen and include some sort of free meal clause in your employment contract?"

Now, how could Spanner say no to that? A wide smile broke out on the blond's face. "Consider me hired, boss."

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

The next day, a food stall was set up in front of an abandoned building, right next to the restaurant. The stall sold pre-made meals carefully arranged in an artistic manner in portable boxes. The whole concept was inspired by Japanese bento lunches, but the food put into the boxes was modified to better suit local Italian tastes.

The novelty of the idea, on top of the delicious food, served as a great way to promote an upcoming restaurant called Studiose.

By the time Hadrian had finally finished with the renovations and Studiose had its grand opening, the rest of his competition were so deep in the red that not even the best efforts of Gordon Ramsay could prevent them from shutting down less than a month later. Some of the surrounding buildings would later be bought by Hadrian in order to expand his steadily growing business.

By the end of the year, Studiose would be considered to be the best restaurant to go to in order to settle minor intra-Famiglia disputes thanks to a special event Hadrian accidentally came up with one evening.

But that's its own separate story for another day.

* * *

 **AN: Oh hoho~ What's this? Two omakes this time~? I've spent a fair amount of time watching snippets of Hell's Kitchen for this omake. Those of you who've seen Gordon Ramsay in his natural habitat could probably pick out how I was inspired to write this.**

 **Once again, please give blackkat1325 a shout-out for being an excellent beta. This story wouldn't have been half as good if it weren't for her.**

 **10/28/2019 Edit: Some more tightening up like the previous chapters.**

 **Thank you all for reading this reboot~! Any and all reviews, favorites, and follows are appreciated~!** **۹** **(Ò** **ہ** **Ó)** **۶**


	6. Runaway VI

**For those who want to know what I have been up to since my last update, keep reading the next bolded paragraphs. Skip this AN if you're not interested.**

 **I know this is gonna sound like I'm making excuses for not updating, but I think you guys deserve some kind of explanation for my unintended hiatus. For starters, Chapter 5 was originally supposed to be posted around, like, Spring Break… but a lot of stuff happened these recent months that delayed my chapter releases...**

 **I graduated from my university, am currently job hunting and getting my life together, had gotten into a car accident a while back, and on top of that, my grandmother died several weeks ago. Needless to say, real life has kept me very busy.**

* * *

Chapter 6: Runaway VI

During what should've been Harry Potter's Sixth Year, Voldemort's Death Eaters attacked Hogwarts, taking advantage of a Hogsmeade weekend to kidnap as many of the students as possible before quickly Apparating away. What was odd about the attack was that the Death Eaters didn't just target Muggleborns and Blood Traitors like most people assumed they would. Upon investigating which of the students never came back from their trip to Hogsmeade, the Aurors found that there were also Purebloods among the thirteen kidnapped victims.

A week later, all thirteen missing students were found unconscious in the middle of Little Hangleton Graveyard, but none of the Death Eaters were there. Save for some slight dehydration and malnourishment from their time as prisoners, the children seemed to be relatively fine. Upon closer inspection, however, the Healers discovered that each child had a mysterious Rune sloppily branded somewhere on their bodies. And what was worse was that the Runes seemed to be draining their Magical Core and funneling the collected Magic elsewhere. If left alone, the children's Magical Cores would eventually be sucked dry, ultimately causing their deaths.

A team of Curse-Breakers were immediately called in to resolve the issue, but all they could do was identify that the Rune served as part of an unknown Dark Ritual. The situation was beyond the skills of St. Mungo's top team of Healers and the best team of Curse-Breakers the Ministry had to offer. One desperate family even tried to remove the Rune by attempting to carve it out of their child's skin, but the brand stubbornly remained. Without a Counter-Curse or some way to dissolve the children's link to the Ritual, their fates were sealed.

Before long, news of the cursed students, newly dubbed as "Bloodless" by Rita Skeeter, rapidly spread all throughout Europe.

Families of the children were already mourning their fates. Some even outright disowned their afflicted sons and daughters, abandoning them to die alone in their hospital beds. Others were in complete denial, refusing to believe in anything other than that a cure just hadn't been discovered yet. Experimental Potions to dubious Spells and Healing Rituals were applied. In many cases, it only worsened their conditions to the point that death would have been a welcomed mercy.

Yet, no matter what they did, there was no delaying the inevitable.

Shortly after the next school year started, fifteen-year-old Romilda Vane, a Halfblood in Gryffindor, succumbed to the Bloodless Curse. She was the first of her fellow victims, as well as the first of many, to die by the hands of Voldemort.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

"Luna, how are you holding up?" Neville timidly asked the girl as he held up a mirror for her.

While Luna was busy fussing over her brittle hair, her boyfriend took the opportunity to closely examine her. The young Witch looked worse than she did yesterday. Her skin was so pale it was practically translucent. Her frame was emaciated to the point of being almost skeletal, and occasionally, Neville caught a glimpse of a milky film over her eyes. All in all, it was doubtful Luna would last past the end of the year.

Not that Neville or any of the other afflicted looked any better. As more of the Bloodless's Magical Cores were being emptied of Magic, the Curse turned to attacking their physical bodies. Severe weight loss was usually the first sign, and for those not as lucky as Luna, hair loss also came hand in hand as the lack of Magic prevented their wasting bodies from absorbing sufficient amount of nutrients. Their senses would also degrade until organ failure finally took its toll on the patient. At that point, no amount of Healing or Potions could help other than to make their final moments easier to bear.

The ditzy-looking girl turned to look at him with glazed eyes. "Hmm… oh dear, your Wrackspurts are increasing, Nev. Do you think this suits me?" Her long blonde hair was carefully separated into two pieces that was arranged and tied together at the back of her head to create a pair of long loops that extended a few inches upwards from the top of her head.

The boy smiled, knowing she was attempting to keep his mind off of her well-being. Before Neville could compliment her, Draco interrupted their conversation as he came down the stairs.

"You look like a half-eaten rabbit." He retorted without much heat. The teen thought the arrangement gave her an illusionary air of having bunny ears.

Luna's silvery-blue eyes took on a happy gleam. "Thanks, Draco! Rabbits are my favourite animals~!"

"I have _not_ given you leave to use my given name," he snapped at the eccentric girl.

"Now, now. We're all friends here," Fred announced as he stumbled into the living room on crutches.

"Besides, how many times have we told you that we're all on a first name basis in this house?" George chimed in, throwing his arm over Draco's shoulders and leaned his full weight on the younger boy.

Both Neville and Luna lit up upon seeing the familiar mischievous smirks of Fred and George.

Draco scoffed, ignoring the arm around his shoulders. "A few months ago, I hexed your brother from behind during Potions, sending him to the Hospital Wing for several days. On top of which, I called your sister a whore not a week later. Those are but two examples of the wretched treatment I've given you Weasleys. And that's not getting into the times I've tried to destroy your older brothers' reputations, nearly sabotaging Percival's ability to get into the Ministry. You cannot possibly see me as an ally, let alone a _friend_ , after everything I've done."

"If I remember correctly, Ginny performed a beautiful flying kick to the bollocks for that, so consider us even after that."

"As for what you tried to do to Bill, Charlie, and Percy… no actual harm came of what you did, so we can pretend that never happened."

"Doesn't stop us from being amused though," Neville piped up while snickering. "I mean, really? _Mummy-fucker_? That pun hurts me more than the Cruciatus Curse."

"Bill wanted us to thank you for that, by the way. He's been driving his coworkers nuts with it."

"Is it too late for me to take him to court for plagiarism?" Draco said sarcastically, leaning over towards Fred and snatching his electric-green bandana from his head, causing George's arm to slip from around his shoulders.

"And the bit about Charlie being a dragon lover in more ways than one… Mind if we borrow that for the next time we see him?" George said, snatching the piece of fabric from Draco and keeping it out of reach from his brother.

"As for Percy, I highly doubt he cares. He's been so busy with his shiny new job as Fudge's secretary that we're pretty sure he's forgotten all about it," Fred informed as he took back his bandana from Neville after George had passed it to him.

"You also get a bye for what you did to Ron. After what he's been saying to us, we're a little less... _sympathetic_ towards him nowadays," George concluded.

"Speaking of, how are your family doing? Have Ron and Ginny come around yet?" Luna asked

Instantly, both their faces fell. Even Fred paused in readjusting his bandana. "No comment," they quietly responded in unison. Evidently, things hadn't gone well during their visit to the Burrow.

After the twins were diagnosed by the Healers and Curse-Breakers, the family needed to decide what they should do with them. Fred and George couldn't continue their education, nor could Arthur and Molly afford to keep them in St. Mungo's for further treatments than what was absolutely necessary. The Curse forced the members of the Weasley clan to take sides on the matter. In the end, it was decided that they were to remain far away from the now unwelcome atmosphere of the Weasley home. Instead of abandoning Fred and George at St. Mungo's like some of their fellow Bloodless had been, Bill and Charlie stepped up to help their younger brothers and sought sanctuary from Sirius.

Before long, they were joined by Severus, who brought with him his newly disowned godson, Xenophilius, whose daughter led him to a nearby park where Remus had stumbled upon them, and finally Neville, who had mustered up the courage to run away after having enough of his grandmother's increasingly toxic behavior towards him.

The first week was tense for all of them, mostly due to Draco being forced to live under the same roof as the people he had bad-mouthed/bullied back in Hogwarts. That was until Fred and George made it so that the showerhead near the former-Malfoy heir's room spewed out buckets of Hair Removal Potions instead of water. On the bright side, it broke the ice between the teenagers. Now, Draco could reluctantly admit that he had grown to think of his fellow Bloodless as, quote: "questionable allies"(even if his newfound friendships came at the cost of all of his hair).

"So, Luna-love, when's your Dad's mysterious penpal coming here?" Fred asked the blonde-haired girl.

"You said there's a surprise for us." George pointed out.

"Right about now," The eccentric teen singsonged in reply.

Exactly on cue, the fireplace burst into green flames, indicating that someone was coming over by Floo. Given all the protective wards that Grimmauld Place had along with the Fidelius Charm, it was doubtful that the person coming through was an enemy. The first person to appear from the fireplace was a tall, beautiful woman with long, wavy brown hair, an olive complexion, and cold blue eyes. Despite her good looks, her predatory demeanor made her look every inch of a femme fatale. Following a few steps after her was a teenage boy around their age with richly tanned skin and thick dark hair. He was equally handsome in a more exotic fashion and his whole body language naturally displayed a self-assured confidence within himself.

"Zabini?!" Everyone cried out, recognizing the boy as one of their schoolmates with Draco being the most shocked, as he considered Blaise as one of his closest confidants.

Blaise Zabini's mother had something of a reputation in the British Wizarding World. Arachne Zabini had been married seven times in the past twenty years and widowed each time before the year was up. According to the unsavory rumors, Lady Zabini would marry her wealthy suitors for their fortunes before killing them off after she somehow got them to will everything they owned to her. However, no one could prove that the woman was the one responsible for their murders, so the cases were often deemed accidental, suicides, or simply death by natural causes.

"Already?! I thought you were coming at five, Slender Legs?" Sirius called out as he entered the living room, having heard the mother and son coming through the Floo Network.

"It's already five in the afternoon, Padfoot," Remus replied with exasperation as he followed after his friend.

Arachne rolled her eyes at Sirius. "And here I thought you'd think more with your upper head than your lower one as you aged. But I guess I was proven wrong. I'm an engaged woman, you know."

"Hey, can't blame a man for wanting to have another go once he's had a taste of paradise and lived to tell the tale about it. Besides, we both know it's only a matter of time before you're available again, eh Black Widow?" Sirius replied with a suggestive waggle of his brow.

The woman's son then let out an angry growl at the man. "Can we get on with this meeting? I have better things to do than watch you flirt with _mia Madre_!" He complained loudly.

"Blaise, behave! Remember, _mio figlio_ , we are guests in Signore Black's house." The youthful-looking mother scolded him with a stern look as she gracefully took a seat on one of the available chairs in the living room.

The young man immediately flushed in embarrassment and murmured, " _Mi dispiace_ , Signore Black."

Remus reached into his pocket after a slight pause and pulled out a worn out book. "Moving on to the matter at hand." He laid it down onto the table in front of the woman and her son and asked, "Soulfire Magic. What can you tell us about it?"

Arachne merely took a single, passing glance at the ancient tome and promptly dismissed the book, "From what Xenophilius Lovegood had described, they seem to coincide with Dying Will Flames, which I must emphasize, is the more _modern_ term for it."

" _Dying Will_ Flames? That sounds pretty ominous." George casually commented.

Luna simply hummed in thought. "Oh, I don't know. I think there's a certain charm to the words. One last burst of strength in one's last moments before the fires of life are snuffed out. I think it's more intimidating than ominous."

The Black Widow spared the girl a quick look of approval for her impressively accurate description before continuing. "After reading through that book, I can safely conclude that much of the information describes Dying Will Flames perfectly, even if the contents are a bit... _outdated_ ," Arachne said, emphasizing the last word with no small amount of distaste.

Remus frowned. "Outdated? How much of it is outdated?"

"Try every chapter," Blaise said dryly before being silenced by Arachne's disapproving glare for speaking out of turn.

"Unfortunately, _mio figlio_ is correct. First, a person's Soul Shade or Flame type isn't as restrictive as the author made them out to be. It's possible to possess more than one, especially if you're going through dramatic changes in your life. While you may be born with one Element, you may develop a secondary Element depending on how you were raised, how your personality developed, or even the Flame type of your parents, grandparents, and so on.

"Second, the book only describes the Dying Will Flames of the Sky, or perhaps what I could surmise as a more underdeveloped version of it during those times. There are no mentions of other mutations such as Earth Flames, Night Flames, Snow Flames, or Wrath Flames. It's been theorized that these mutations are fairly recent. Dying Will Flames may have existed since the beginning of human history, but it was only in the last few hundred years or so that the aforementioned Flame mutations that I had spoken of had made their appearance.

"And last but not least, there is no limit to how many Guardians a Sky can take on. Multiple sets of Guardians _are_ uncommon, but not impossible. In addition, they don't have to be restricted to the confines of the role they were given after Harmonization. My grandmother was once a Storm Guardian to the late Daniela di Vongola even though her primary Flame was Mist. But that didn't stop her from substituting herself as a stand-in as the Ottavo's Mist Guardian in a pinch, which came in handy as the Lady Ottavo never took on another Mist after the death of her first." The formal woman said, finally concluding her long explanation.

"Bloody hell, that was a lot of information!" Fred exclaimed, holding the sides of his head in confusion. He wasn't expecting to be given an entire lecture when he had signed up for this. His twin brother was in the same boat as he struggled to wrap his head around the new information.

"Hold on, there's one thing that's been bugging me. Soulfire is technically _Muggle Magic_ , right? So… how do _you_ know about all of this?" Neville chimed in with a hand raised, his voice full of suspicion.

This, Blaise could answer for them. "The Zabini Family has been connected to the Mafia World for centuries. We have existed as a sanctuary for magically-born Mafia children. At least once a generation, the Mafia would produce a single individual who was born with permanently Latent Dying Will Flames. Nine times out of ten, it's usually an indicator that they're a Witch or Wizard, especially if their Flames are too weak to become Active. Once they've been identified as a Witch or Wizard, they would be sent to the House of Zabini to be Blood-Adopted and raised in the Wizarding World."

"So then that means you two are actually…" Sirius trailed off, already knowing the answer to his question.

"Yes. My child may not have come from my body, but Blaise is still my son in all the ways that matter." The beautiful mother confirmed.

Arachne Zabini's mother had been a hitwoman who went by the moniker of "Siren Venom", specializing mostly in honeytrap assassinations. It was almost a shame that her daughter was born without her mother's infamously potent Rain Flames. However, Arachne's predecessor, Lord Zabini, a man who could trace his lineage all the way back to one Vongola Quinto's many illegitimate offspring, saw nothing wrong in allowing his Blood-Adopted heir to follow in on the Siren Venom's footsteps.

Arachne's own Blood-Adopted child, on the other hand, was born to a minor Famiglia who had been disappointed that one of their potential heirs would never become a Flame User in his lifetime, so Blaise was given to Arachne's care when he was still but a toddler. Given the Black Widow had a well-known habit of constantly changing husbands, it was easy to get people to automatically assume that her son was a product of one of her deceased conquests. A misunderstanding that worked well for the two of them.

"We may not ever be able to awaken our Dying Will Flames, but we do know enough to coach you on how to awaken yours. You should rejoice. I highly doubt there has ever been a case of a wizard being turned into a Flame User before… Assuming that any of you survive, that is," Arachne finished.

"So just to clarify… We have a possibility of not dying… A way into a world of organized crime… And we can basically flip the bird to all the sheeple in the Wizarding World if we succeed," George listed out before finally chirping, "So, my dear blokes and bird, what should we do once we get to Italy?" For the first time since Bill and Charlie got their brothers out of St. Mungo's, things were finally looking up.

"Open up a shop?" Draco suggested without much enthusiasm. "Lovegood could be a fortune teller or something, you two could sell your pranks, and Longbottom can finally make himself useful by taking advantage of his stupid green thumb."

"And what about you? What are you going to contribute to the table? I'll have you know we have no room for freeloaders in this household!" Luna declared with gusto.

"Potioneer. Failing that, I will become a Healer or something. If someone has to be the one to bail you lot out, it might as well be me," Draco replied without a beat before pointing out, "Also, by your argument, wouldn't we Bloodless be considered freeloaders seeing as we owe every second of our continued existence to the generosity of Black?"

Neville tapped the teen on the shoulder. "Hey, Malfoy, if the two of us survive, think we can partner up? I'll supply the ingredients and you make the Potions."

"When," Draco stresses. "It is _when_ we survive, Longbottom. Talk to me again when the two of us are not on our deathbeds."

"You know, you can call us by our given names," the younger of the Weasley twins told him.

Draco clicked his tongue before giving George the barest hint of a smile. "I would rather not, if it's all the same to you."

Luna's smile took on a knowing glint. "I don't know about you boys, but I'm looking forward to seeing my King again," The sickly-looking girl said vaguely as she stared down at her empty trembling hands. She probably wouldn't have long for this world, but one way or another, she would be heading off to a different world soon enough. In her mind's eye, she could see yellow-tinted indigo fire dancing about her fingertips.

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Luna was the first one of them to die.

Neville had held her hand as she took her last breath, surrounded by her friends and weeping father. "I'll see you soon, everyone." Then Luna Lovegood closed her eyes one last time and let herself go.

A few days after her death, Xenophilius erected a headstone right beside his wife's grave in honor of his daughter. Her epitaph read, "Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end. If not always in the way we expect."

The next were Fred and George.

After visiting their family one last time for the holidays, the twins had died not two days after Christmas. George died first. Fred, as if not wanting to live another moment without his other half, followed not long after. Both brothers had died still laughing merrily like any other day despite having mere minutes left to live. They slipped away with peaceful smiles on their faces as though they had simply fallen asleep after tiring themselves out from a long day of swapping jokes with their parents and siblings. That day, the Burrow was filled with life and laughter and peaceful slumber through the night until the sound of Molly's mournful wail echoing throughout the Weasley household came the next morning. Ginny had handed her parents a letter from Remus stating that her older brothers had passed on upon their return to the Grimmauld Place.

Draco's death, however, was easily the most traumatic of all of them.

Not by the young Slytherin himself but for those who witnessed it. Tired of waiting for Death to come for him, Draco had decided to take matters into his own hands in the only way he was able to. Severus had been just seconds too late to stop his godson. After taking a fatal overdose of a potion he made using the final dregs of Magic still remaining in his Core, Draco Malfoy died quickly, but violently, in his godfather's arms. His parents didn't attend his funeral, but on his birthday, they were seen laying flowers on his lonely grave.

Much to the surprise of many, Neville lasted the longest out of all of them. Despite possessing the disgraceful nickname of "Squib of Gryffindor," he proved to be a far stronger Wizard than his relatives and peers than they had given him credit for. Out of all thirteen Bloodless, he was the last male and second to last of the Bloodless to die. Augusta's eulogy expressed disappointment in her grandson for not fulfilling the potential she believed he had possessed in life and an even bigger disappointment in herself for pushing Neville so far without realizing the damage her treatment had caused him.

Miles and miles away from England, a group of teenage friends opened up a shop in Sicily. Shortly after the Marauder's Den had its grand opening, dozens of Mafioso flocked to their modest store, and the demands for their services had continued to rise ever since.

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"What did you lot do _this_ time?" Gargouille Serpens (Draco Malfoy) practically growled at his two friends/housemates.

"She enabled me?" Leimakid Hyades (Neville Longbottom) offered, pointing to the smug-faced blonde-haired girl hanging off of his arm.

Said blonde gave the fuming Potioneer a proud toothy grin. "We've done nothing you should be concerned about," Kaguya Tsukihime (Luna Lovegood) singsonged innocently.

"On the contrary, it _is_ my concern," Gargouille gritted out. "Just look at this alley! How many bodies _are_ there?!"

"Zero corpses and about fifty concussed Mafiosi grunts. I don't know the exact numbers. I lost count after twenty-three," Leimakid sheepishly admitted.

Gargouille had been out buying groceries and all but forced everyone to tag along with him (mostly because he didn't trust them alone for more than a few seconds without blowing up half the building… as they had already done twice before). The moment he turned his back for _maybe_ five minutes to decide what type of meat they should have for tonight's dinner, the twins and the lovebirds went missing. When he finally managed to find some of them, Gargouille had found two of them in an alleyway surrounded by heaps of broken and bruised men in torn Armani suits.

"Dare I ask _why_ you decided to take out an entire low-ranking Famiglia's worth of people?" Gargouille snarled lowly.

"They were harassing my lady love. Good thing I had My Little Friend with me. I was wondering when and how I was going to give this thing a test drive," Leimakid laughed as he hefted up his new weapon onto his shoulder.

"My Little Friend" (yes, Leimakid really did name it that) was a fourteen-inch, Flame-reinforced _dildo bat_ his lover had gotten him for his birthday. How Kaguya was able to convince Talbot, the elderly antique dealer from the countryside, to forge that offense to human modesty Gargouille would never know. The monstrosity was not only rainbow-colored, it was also bedazzled enough to put a disco ball to shame. Kaguya specifically requested to make her fiancé's weapon to be as humiliating in design as humanly possible… for Leimakid's future bludgeoning victims, that is.

Oddly enough, Leimakid took a shine to it. Something about finally being able to knock some sense into certain kinds of people. (Gargouille did not like the look Leimakid gave him when he said that. He thanked his patron gods he wasn't My Little Friend's first blood offering.)

"To be fair, it was justifiable self-defense. Their Boss was planning on selling off my Leimakid to some Famiglia in Japan because of his Copper Aspect. I'd say he didn't do _enough_ ," Kaguya explained as she threaded her fingers in her fiancé's hair.

Gargouille let out an audible moan and buried his face into his hands. "Please, for the sake of my sanity, _please_ tell me this won't come back and bite us in the arse sometime in the future."

"Fine, I won't tell you," Leimakid said.

"Oh, thank Mercury-"

"So... you know that order you spent a whole week on?" Leimakid interrupted the blond. "You might want to cancel that since the customer who ordered it is… well..." He trailed off as his gaze went towards one of the fallen Mafiosi hanging upside down from the fire escape. He was nude from the waist down and unconscious with his bare buttocks practically bloody and raw.

"I am _seriously_ contemplating on poisoning your tea and then collecting your life insurance!" Gargouille snapped.

"I have life insurance?"

"Not yet, but _when you do_ …"

"It's alright, Gary. We don't want to do business with someone like him anyways," Kaguya cooed as she reached over to pat the Potioneer on the shoulder.

"Shut up! Do not _touch_ me," Gargouille snarled, roughly pushing the girl's hand off of his shoulder. "Better yet, _don't_ call me Gary!"

"Ah, the sweet sound of an angry Gary. So what chaos have our favourite lovebirds been up to, and why didn't you invite us?" Eidolon Doppelgänger (George Weasley) and his brother, Vardøger Doppelgänger (Fred Weasley), strolled into the alleyway carrying a suspicious looking bag of supplies they had most likely bought from the nearby black market.

"Excuse me, but I am trying to _not_ make good on my threat of making ceramic pottery out of Leimakid's bones without you two making everything worse!" Gargouille bellowed at the twins before coughing politely. "My name is _Gargouille_. Use it! Not Gary."

"Ah, alas poor Leimakid!" Eidolon wailed strongly enough to make an opera singer envious as Vardøger swooned dramatically against his brother. "So young before his time! How cruel of Gary to take him from us this way! On your behalf, we'll all pray to your patron goddess, Freyja, that your soul will rest in the heavenly meadows of Fólkvangr!"

Kaguya leaned into her fiancé's side and wiped away an imaginary tear. "Don't worry, dearest. I'll make sure to bring your favourite flowers to your grave every day."

"...But I'm not dead yet," Leimakid pouted.

"Don't weep for the stupid, you'll all die of dehydration at this rate," Gargouille deadpanned, all the fight he had earlier already leaving him. Why was he still living with these people? Oh right, because housing was cheaper with more people to pitch in to pay off the bills. "And stop calling me Gary!"

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"Luna Eris Lovegood! What have you fucking _done_?!" Gargouille roared as he burst into her room without even bothering to stop and knock first.

From her position on Leimakid's lap, she merely cocked her head at him curiously. "It's Kaguya, Gary." The blonde corrected him before scolding him, "Also, knock next time. What would your mother say if she knew you had a habit of carelessly storming into a lady's bedroom without so much as a 'May I?'"

Gargouille, for his credit, ignored her insinuations. "Fine! _Kaguya Tsukihime_ , what have you fucking done?!" He repeated, "And how many times do I have to tell you to not! Call! Me! _GARY_?!"

"You're going to have to be specific, Gary dear. I've done a lot of things today."

"Me, especially," Leimakid added.

" _This_ ," the Potioneer hissed, shoving a flyer into the lovebirds' faces.

"Coming soon. The Annual Cooking Competition. Now being held at the newly constructed stadium near the Vongola Iron Fort. Invitation only," Leimakid read aloud for Kaguya's sake.

"Oh, now I remember," Kaguya realized. "The Annual Mafia Cooking Competition. I heard that the Vongola Famiglia is hosting it this year. I figured it would be fun if you entered as well."

"I do not care if you lot joined a _BDSM occult club_! Just leave _me_ out of it!"

"But Gary~ We need you and your weird kitchen voodoo~" Vardøger crept up behind him and draped himself over the slightly shorter boy. Eidolon, on the other hand, dropped down and latched onto Gargouille's legs with all the grace of a koala on a eucalyptus tree in order to prevent Gargouille from escaping.

"The last time you needed my 'weird kitchen voodoo,' you let my cupcakes escape out into the streets and nearly brought the wrath of the Mafia Dementors upon our heads," he said glaring at the twins

Gargouille's "kitchen voodoo", as Eidolon had put it, was the result of an unusual family Curse for those who had inherited the Black Family Magicks (and _that_ was a nightmare in and of itself to research and find out what was going on). The blond found out the hard way that he had gotten the full brunt of the Curse when he attempted to make cupcakes for the first time. Thank the Gods and Goddesses of fortune that they lived in the middle of Mafia territory. (The Mafiosi who encountered the cupcakes thought they were just a Mist working at first and ignored them… to their detriment.) If they pulled the same stunt in a civilian residential area, the Vindice would've snapped them up faster than they could say "Quidditch."

By the end of the day, Gargouille somehow took it as a personal challenge to figure out ways to get around his Curse, and with trial and error, he had succeeded (for the most part).

"How were we supposed to know that the cupcakes could combine into a cake?" Vardøger retorted.

"Actually, they didn't," Leimakid piped up, "Apparently, someone in the Varia pulled a prank, but the cake was the result of the whole thing gone wrong. It actually _ate_ Gargouille's cupcakes."

"Before we get any _further_ off topic! Kaguya, what possessed you to enter a cooking competition hosted by Soulfire-wielding _criminals_?!" Gargouille demanded.

The blond girl shrugged. "The Heliopaths told me to."

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"SIGNORS AND SIGNORIAS! WELCOME TO THE ANNUAL MAFIA COOKING COMPETITION! THIS YEAR, WE ARE HOSTED BY THE UNSTOPPABLE VONGOLA FAMIGLIA! EVERYONE PLEASE GIVE A ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR THE DON VONGOLA NONO HIMSELF!" The announcer roared into his microphone.

As Timeteo and his Guardians stepped onto the stage to take their place at the judges' table, the audience gave a polite round of applause. The stadium was packed with dozens of Famiglias from all over Italy. A good chunk of the audience also consisted of foreign Mafioso like the Russian Bratva and the Drug Cartels of Latin America.

The announcer then proceeded to name the contestants as they entered the arena. There was a total of fifty participants, discounting the people they brought with them. One of the major rules of the competition clearly specified that the contestants were allowed to bring any equipment or ingredients they would need to for the competition. Practically anything goes, from entire tanks to people. The only banned items were the ones set by the hosting Famiglia literally the day before the start of the tournament.

In the Don Vongola Nono's case, his only ban was drugs and humans as ingredients, but participants were allowed to bring people as their cooking assistants or bodyguards (so long as they were not used as their submission). A shared sentiment throughout the international community after one disastrous Cooking Competition some 150 years ago. (Let's just say the Vongola Terzo was not amused by one rival Famiglia, whose existence was quickly wiped from the face of the Earth after they thought they could make a power move by feeding him his recently murdered son's organs.)

"AND REPRESENTING THE VARIA, WE HAVE THE HEAD CHEF AND OWNER OF STUDIOSE, HADRIAN TEMPERANZA!" The announcer bellowed with enthusiasm.

The crowd practically gave the waving teen a standing ovation. Most of the Mafia Dons had eaten at his restaurant and gave glowing reviews about the eatery to their subordinates and allies alike. Expectations were high for the androgynous teen. The last time a Flame Cook on that level had taken the stage was close to twenty years ago where the Tainted Ambrosia Setta completely _demolished_ her opponents without a shred of mercy.

"Bel, why are you wearing eyeshadow?" Hadrian said squinting at the other teen's face as they reached their assigned cooking station.

"Why not? By the way, does it look okay? Because the Prince has got to slay," Belphegor replied, said eyes never leaving the screen of his phone.

"Muu. No one can actually see your eyes. Who cares if your eyeliner is 'on point' as you kids call it," Mammon snarked.

"By the way, Bel, I've been meaning to ask. I've noticed that you've been using more and more slang since our first meeting. Why?"

"Muu. Safe to say, he likes you," Mammon informed.

"Okay, so what's with the weird title he keeps tossing around while trying to explain to me what memes are?"

"Ushishishishishishishishi," Belphegor giggled but made no move to explain himself.

"...Ever since I made the mistake of introducing him to the internet on his ninth birthday, he's been obsessed with meme culture. I assume the title he frequently uses while texting you is 'memelord.' I honestly have no idea where he got it from, but one day, he started referring to himself as that and never stopped. Just the other day, he even introduced himself to the new mooks as 'Prince Belphegor di Varia Tempesta, Grand Duke of the Costra Nosa Memedom.'"

Hadrian sighed, "...Guess I'll have to get used to all the funny cat pictures he keeps sending me every other hour. Last week, it was a just an angry and unhappy cat."

Belphegor grinned. "Grumpy Cat will be forever a classic. RIP Tardar Sauce, you will be missed."

"AND FINALLY, WE HAVE GARGOUILLE SERPENS OF MARAUDER'S DEN! DON'T UNDERESTIMATE HIM CONTESTANTS! HE MAY NOT BE AFFILIATED WITH ANY FAMIGLIA, BUT IF WHAT'S BEEN SAID ABOUT THEM IS TRUE, HE AND HIS FRIENDS ARE A FORCE TO BE RECKONED WITH!"

A blond haired young man sauntered out into the stadium flanked by two others around the same age. The oldest of the bunch had bright orange-red hair and was cheekily blowing kisses to the audience while the other, despite easily towering over both his friends, seemed to be trying his best to make himself seem smaller due to the overwhelming amount of attention making his social anxiety flare back up with a vengeance.

As Gargouille walked past the fellow contestants, he took the opportunity to scrutinize each and every one. One participant had an actual Komodo Dragon in a cage on his counter. Another station consisted of an all-women's group who sported tan skin, black masks, pink hair, and trendy clothes.

However, it wasn't until Vardøger caught sight of one particular contestant that he frantically signaled his friends to take a closer look at them. The person finishing up laying out their supplies in question was a petite girl with wavy black hair tied back with a large purple ribbon. At her assigned cooking station, she stood alongside an infant and a blond boy around the same age, both of whom wearing the infamously recognizable Varia uniform. This was the Varia's representative for the competition?

But as Gargouille got a good look at "her" face, he felt ill to his stomach. Sure, compared to the last time he had seen the "girl," "she" barely resembled the person he once knew. They may have grown out their hair and had finally gotten themselves new glasses and a decent fashion sense, but he'd recognize his old school rival anywhere. Those big Avada Kedavra green eyes could only belong to one person and one person only.

"Oh, fuck all kinds of ducks. Of course, you would be in a cooking competition, Scarface."

Upon hearing the comment, Hadrian whipped his head around in a panic and almost screamed bloody murder at the speaker. "D-D-Draco Malfoy?! Ho-"

Gargouille held up a hand. "Save it. We will talk after the competition. Also, it is _Gargouille Serpens_ now. Know it. Love it. Do me a favour and actually _use_ it."

Before Hadrian could say anything more, he then heard a loud, happy wail bellow near his ear. The next thing he knew, he was tackled into a rib-crushing embrace by a six-foot-tall mass of muscle. Brownish-blond hair. A round, gentle face. It took Hadrian a while to recognize who in the seven circles of hell this sobbing behemoth nuzzling his face was. "Neville?!" He cried out, making said person blubber even harder. "Oh, wow...you...changed a lot," Hadrian said weakly. That was a gross understatement, and everyone who had known Leimakid back when he was still Neville Longbottom knew it.

"Like you're one to talk. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought you were your own sister," Gargouille muttered under his breath.

While this was all happening, Belphegor glanced up from his phone and raised an unseen eyebrow at Leimakid. "Mammy, isn't that peasant the new chauffeur?"

"Muu, he's part-time and not scheduled for any shifts today. It's not our business if he wants to participate in a competition against his employers."

Once Hadrian freed himself from Leimakid's hug, he felt a tap on his shoulder and came face to face with a widely grinning Vardøger.

"Even Fred's here?! Does that mean-"

"Yep! That's Vardøger! Also, Kaguya and Eidolon, aka Luna and George, are in Italy too! By the way, Kaguya proposed, and she says that you have first dibs on our firstborn!" Leimakid chirped, proudly holding up his intricately carved wine cork engagement ring up for Hadrian to view.

"Really? You and Lu- I mean, Kaguya? ...Does that mean I won the pot?"

This caught Mammon's full attention. "Did someone mention a betting pool? Hadrian, as your self-proclaimed accountant, I demand to know more about this."

"Twenty-five percent," Hadrian immediately offered.

"Fifty."

"Thirty."

"Fifty-five."

"Thirty-five, an actual contract drawn up that will allow you to handle my accounts, and a copy of Maxwell Barnett's _Guide to Advanced Occlumency_."

"Throw in _Living With Legilimens: Choose Your Minds Wisely_ , and you've got yourself a deal. My old copy is falling apart."

"Done."

Gargouille sighed and shook his head. "Hadrian, is it? You won't be winning much. The Galleons pool is practically nonexistent because of the Blood-"

 _ **BOOM!**_

All around the Hadrian's cooking stations, the other stations exploded, spewing an oddly colored gas directly at the contestants. One by one, the participants began to drop, their faces varying in shades of green and blue with foam and blood coming out of their mouths. This went on until finally, only the Varia and Marauder's Den representatives remained standing.

"OH...MY… UH… IT LOOKS LIKE THE MAJORITY OF OUR CONTESTANTS HAVE, UM… HEY, COULD SOMEONE CHECK ON THEM? I'M PRETTY SURE SOME ARE DEAD," the announcer fumbled.

As soon as the shock cleared from their systems, the knowledge that they had narrowly avoided getting taken out of the competition by the skin of their teeth set in.

"Psst, Gary. I think we dodged a bullet," Leimakid whispered, his voice shaking as much as the rest of him.

"Don't you dare start calling me Gary too," the young Potioneer hissed back. Though he'd be lying that he didn't share his friends' horror. Their designated cooking station had exploded in a cloud of poisonous gas as well. Had they not stopped to catch up with Hadrian, they would've joined the other convulsing contestants on the ground.

"D-did you guys do this?" Hadrian accused his bodyguards for the day.

"Muu, not that I know of," Mammon shrugged nonchalantly. Either the poison bomb in Hadrian's station had failed to detonate when it should, or it was the work of someone in the Varia wanting to ensure their win. Either way, the infobroker could care less.

Everyone then turned to Belphegor, who finally noticed the stares and stopped texting.

"The prince has been meme-bombing the group chat since three in the morning! Where would I have had the time to do something boring like poison-bomb some peasants? And why would I resort to killing the normie way instead of cutting up a bitch?"

"FOLKS, I JUST RECEIVED THE VERDICT. GOOD NEWS AND BAD NEWS. THE GOOD NEWS… MOST OF THE DOWNED CONTESTANTS CAN EXPECT TO MAKE A FULL RECOVERY AFTER BEING GIVEN PROPER TREATMENT. THE BAD NEWS IS THAT THEY WON'T BE ABLE TO PARTICIPATE SO WITH ONLY TWO COMPETITORS LEFT IN THE RUNNING, WE'RE GOING TO HAVE TO CUT THE COOK-OFF SHORT."

A lot of unhappy Mafiosi began booing and jeering at the announcer.

"How have we not been disqualified for cheating?" Hadrian said in amazement.

"Muu, technically, the rules never state that it's forbidden to try anything before the competition," Mammon elaborated. "In other words, sabotage, slipping in banned ingredients, and fixing the matches are all fair game so long as the actual event hasn't officially started. Don't worry, this kind of stunt has happened before. The only difference was that all of the contestants were killed."

"All of them? Does that mean that the contestant who poisoned them won by default?" Leimakid asked.

"No, there was no winner. The buffoon accidentally took himself out of the competition permanently as well."

Everyone went completely silent at that.

In the end, they had to wait about another two whole hours for the bodies to be cleared out and the tampered stations to be removed and replaced.

"AND WE'RE BACK! ALRIGHT, SINCE WE'VE WASTED ENOUGH TIME, LET'S SKIP ALL THE BORING STUFF LIKE RULES AND WHATNOT AND GET STRAIGHT INTO THIS YEAR'S THEME! SPONGE CAKE! (Why am I not surprised?)" The last part was mumbled underneath the announcer's breath.

The audience also shared in the announcer's exasperation. Everyone and their grandmother knew about Timeteo di Vongola's infamous sweet tooth. Hell, the old man's Guardians were even _named_ after sweets! Rumor has it that he specifically chose his Guardians because his Vongola Hyper Intuition ran on his love of sweets. Ever since Timeteo's coronation as Don Vongola Nono, every time the Vongola would host the annual cooking competition, the theme would always be, without fail, some form of dessert recipe.

"Easy win?" Leimakid smirked.

"Sod off and go stick your dick back in that ball of crazy you call a 'waifu'! Have you forgotten we're up against _him_ of all people?!" Gargouille said hysterically, pointing at Hadrian. "Marauder's Den isn't going to win against the Varia. Not when they have the bloody House Husband of Hogwarts representing them of all people, but I'll be damned if I don't at least put up a good fight!"

It became clear during their Second Year that Harry Potter was some sort of kitchen prodigy. While trying to find a place where he could be alone for a while, he had stumbled upon the Hogwarts kitchen, which he quickly claimed as his sanctuary.

Cooking had always been a good stress relief activity for the boy. As soon as Harry could walk, he was given countless of chores to do to "earn his keep," with cooking being one of them. It quickly became the one chore Harry didn't hate because if the recipe turned out well, mealtimes was the only times Harry got any sort of positive acknowledgement for his efforts, even if it was only expressed by shoving the food into their faces like starved animals.

Second Year had been especially taxing on twelve-year-old Harry's emotional and mental well-being after the majority of the school had turned against him for coming out as a Parselmouth. After much persuasion, the young Wizard was able to convince the Hogwarts House Elves to let him use their facilities whenever he wished.

Ron, ever the glutton, was first to notice that Harry had returned to the dorms with what looked suspiciously like a homemade shepherd's pie in hand. Word soon spread after that and people would flock to Harry for a taste of whatever food he had made after coming out of the school kitchens. One bite and people were hooked. Harry didn't mind sharing as he had a tendency to make too much, especially on his bad days.

Third Year experienced many a day when every person in Gryffindor Tower (even Professor McGonagall) skipped out on having dinner in the Great Hall because Harry made an entire buffet's worth of food that needed to be devoured.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

Within his office, Ottavio and some of his men watched the security feed of the competition. Everything was going relatively well. Sure, their plan had hit a little snag when one of the contestant groups avoided their bombs, but the Varia would eventually claim victory once Hadrian fulfilled his purpose.

Even on the off chance that the little Cloud brat lost, Ottavio would have an excuse to get rid of his competition one way or another.

"Now we just sit back and watch," the Cloud Officer said as he drank from the wide glass containing 1811 Chateau d'Yquem white wine.

"Are you sure about this, sir? What if things don't go as planned? The Nono-"

Ottavio waved off his subordinate's concerns. "Please, his Frankenstein Cooking may be a weapon of mass destruction, but any typical Flame User can deal with it. Besides, what do you think will happen? A bunch of apple mousse cakes escape from the stadium and invade the Iron Fort?"

Little did he know that Ottavio's first mistake was assuming Hadrian was the _only_ one who could use Frankenstein Cooking among the competitors.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

"BEFORE WE START, WE HAVE A MESSAGE FROM A LOVELY SIGNORIA KAGUYA TSUKIHIME TO SIGNOR GARGOUILLE SERPENS!" The announcer interrupted before clearing his throat to read off of the paper he was given. "DEAR GARY, IF YOU DON'T WIN THE COMPETITION, YOU, ME, MY BEAU, AND THE TWINS WILL JOIN THE VARIA AND BECOME HADRIAN'S SLAVES! WITH ALL MY LOVE, KAGUYA. PS. DON'T FORGET YOUR PIPE. YOU'RE GOING TO NEED IT."

Immediately, murmurs erupted among the audience. Not a lot of it was good. The most vocal complained about the Vongola hoarding all of the best talents for themselves.

Hadrian frowned at the ultimatum. "Did I just get dragged into a family dispute?"

"Muu, I've been hearing some juicy stuff about Marauder's Den. Win or lose, I don't see why we shouldn't _invest_ in them," Mammon stated, a greed-filled glint in their eyes.

Gargouille exploded in fury. Vardøger literally had to _sit_ on him to prevent the blond from running straight home to strangle Kaguya. "I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU BLIND BIMBO?! I'M GOING TO LIQUIDATE YOUR LIVER AND POUR CEMENT INTO YOUR EARS WHILE YOU'RE ASLEEP!"

Belphegor grinned madly at the raging Potioneer. "Wildcat, I'm breaking up with you. The prince has found himself a new beau."

Hadrian looked to Belphegor in confusion. "We were dating?"

"AND FOR THE LAST TIME, MY NAME IS GARGOUILLE, YOU SCHIZOPHRENIC AIRHEAD, NOT _GARY_!"

"Okay, rude. You can't call my lady that."

"I'LL CALL THAT WALKING AFFRONT TO BASIC RATIONALITY WHATEVER THE HELL I DAMN WELL PLEASE!"

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

The cook off began pretty smoothly. Contestants would have only two hours to create whatever they saw fit so long as they stuck to the theme. Once the countdown began, both Hadrian and Gargouille immediately got to work on their respective desserts.

On Hadrian's end, he had already made a sponge cake base, apple and cheese mousse, and cranberry nappage prior to the start of the competition. Because of the time constraints, Hadrian had decided to pre-make all the necessary parts ahead of time and then spend the first quarter of the cook off assembling the miniature cakes. Normally, the original recipe called for freezing the cakes for several hours, but Hadrian used a special refrigerator Spanner had made for him that was repurposed to run on Flames. Once the assembled fist-sized cakes were placed in the fridge, he downed about a gallon of Sun-infused peppermint tea and poured as much of his Flames as he could into the machine without overloading it. The end result had him cut down the time for the cakes to freeze to less than an hour. The remainder of his time was used to apply the nappage glaze and caramel shard garnish.

Meanwhile, Gargouille was planning on constructing some kind of massive cake sculpture from scratch. He was carefully molding hot mizuame into what looked like pointed European roofs with just his bare hands. He didn't stop there, though. Tiny intricate stained glass windows featuring mythological creatures such as mermaids and dragons were also created before the stuff cooled. While this was happening, the blond had Vardøger and Leimakid focus on mass producing sheets of pre-rolled sponge cakes of varying sizes. The last thirty minutes remaining was used to put all the pieces together. Crème was added to the cakes then rolled up. The mizuame sugar sculptures were then added to the sides and on top of Gargouille's creation to complete the look.

While it wasn't as exciting as the Cooking Competitions of the past, the two remaining contestants were still able to display a massive amount of skill and dexterity in their cooking. Normally, handling hot sugar was a dangerous endeavor for amateurs, yet Gargouille showed no ill effects as he worked with a speed that made the local taffy pullers green with envy. Before long, speculations on the possibility that the young man possessed Lightning or Sun Flames began to spread. On the other hand, Hadrian was already well-known for being a rare and highly coveted Flame Cook.

"AAAAAAANNNNNNDDDD TIME'S UP! FROM THE LOOKS OF IT, MARAUDER'S DEN HAS CREATED A CASTLE MADE ENTIRELY OUT OF JAPANESE ROLL CAKES WITH MIZUAME SUGAR SPIRAL ROOFS AND STAIN GLASS WINDOWS. BUT WILL IT STAND UP TO WHAT TEMPERANZA HAD MADE?! AND OVER ON THE VARIA'S SIDE OF THE FIELD, TEMPERANZA MAY NOT HAVE CREATED ANYTHING AS LARGE AS SERPENS'S ENTRY, BUT HE MORE THAN MAKES UP FOR IT IN QUANTITY! I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU, SIGNORS AND SIGNORINAS, BUT THAT DAINTY DISH NOT ONLY LOOKS PRETTY DAMN TASTY BUT SEEMS EASIER ON THE STOMACH TOO! JUDGES? WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY ABOUT THEM AT FIRST GLANCE?!"

While the judges gave their input on the appearance of the cakes, the two participants ignored what they had to say in favour of roasting their fellow competitor.

"Really, Gargouille? You recreated Hogwarts?" Hadrian giggled.

"You're one to talk. Do you really think you are going to impress the judges with such a pathetically small dish?" Gargouille scoffed, eyeing the dozens of the other teen's autumn-themed entremets with disdain.

"Oi, size isn't everything! And what about you? Are you overcompensating for something with that monstrosity?"

"At least I could satisfy the judges with _my_ cake! That sorry excuse of a crumpet is barely a mouthful!"

As the two teens snarked back and forth at each other, Vardøger tiptoed towards Hadrian's kitchen counter in the hopes of stealing one of Hadrian's delectable-looking cakes for himself. Surely, the green-eyed teen wouldn't notice that one of the baker's dozen was missing.

A quick sleight of hand later, and he finally got his hands on his prize.

But as the redhead was about to leave, one of Hadrian's red-glazed entremets quickly launched itself at Vardøger and latched onto his face with a death-like grip. Vardøger let out a silent scream of horror and terror as he flailed around trying to get the now alive and angry cake off of him.

With one of their comrades disturbed, the rest of the entremet brood began to stir. Using the caramel shards as wings, they all took to the sky. Much to the horror of those in the stadium, the tiny cakes began to dive-bomb at members of the audience. Pandemonium ensues and one of the Mafioso tried to protect their Boss by shooting at the fluttering cake hoard. One of bullets clipped an entremet in its caramel shard wing sending it hurtling to the ground where the tiny cake splattered into a pile of mousse. Unfortunately, the cocktail of Cloud and Sun Flames in their system caused the downed entremet to rapidly regenerate from its injuries. Not as a singular cake as it was before, but it had split into two, then three, then four!

A loud rumbling inhuman sound reverberated over the chaos as Gargouille's roll cake castle began to shudder and groan. The audience quickly ran towards the nearest exit in order to escape the grasp of the now awake and angry cake sculpture who kept on devouring anyone it got its hands on. The victims would then proceed to slide straight through the crème within its rolls and out of the other end of one of its many rolls, and repeat.

Not even the Vongola Nono was spared from being mobbed by flying miniature cakes and as well as being eaten then shat out by the giant walking sponge roll.

Throughout it all, Hadrian watched on with a 1000% Supremely Done™ gaze. He took out his thermos, poured himself a cup, and knocked the whole thing back like a shot of vodka. Hadrian felt someone come up beside him and sit down in the available stool next to him.

"Are you even drinking green tea anymore? There are more Rain Flames in that thing than the actual beverage," Gargouille commented dryly as he took a long puff from his ornate pipe.

Hadrian wrinkled his nose as he recognized the smell of marijuana. Gargouille was one to talk. The Cloudy-Sky could practically taste the Rain in the air wafting off of the blond as he smoked. "You too?" Hadrian said more out of empathy than anything.

"Ah, I had forgotten… Dorea Black was your grandmother. It seems that not even the Potter lineage could negate the Black Sugar Curse," Gargouille said, his long suffering stare still fixated on the chaos before them.

"There's an actual name for that?"

Hadrian would later learn that one of their Black ancestors was stupid enough to incur the wrath of a Muggleborn noblewoman named Elena Estraneo and her fiancé, who was also an exceptionally powerful Mist Flame User. To punish the arrogant Pureblood, she and her lover created a Bloodline-locked Curse that made it so that their target and his descendants could never get near whatever foodstuff made using sugar without it coming alive and attempting to devour them. Over the years, the newly dubbed Black Sugar Curse had largely waned in power, but the story was still told to young Black children in order to explain why the birthday cake they tried to make for their parents suddenly started barking and acting like a dog.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

Left without an option, Timoteo reluctantly called the Varia to come in and sort out the problem after he and his Guardians went in and out of the living Japanese roll cake for the fifth time. As soon as they heard the infamous sound of Squalo's favourite greeting, they all but jumped on the opportunity to leave the Officers to their fates.

"VOOOOIIII! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO, YOU SHITTY CHEF?!" The Rain Officer bellowed, his cries practically echoed throughout the mostly empty stadium.

Levi and Lussuria followed closely behind. Upon seeing Gargouille's creation, Levi turned white as a sheet and fainted, foam coming out of his mouth. Ever since his first experience with one of Hadrian's infamous cake monsters, he had never gotten over the trauma.

"Ushishishi. It's about time!" The crème covered Belphegor yelled at the newly arrived Officers.

"Um, is he alright? Should I wake him up?" Leimakid slowly approached Levi's comatose form.

"Just kick him in the head or something! If he falls asleep again, do it again!" Squalo barked as he sliced an entremet in half, only for it to reform into triplets.

Leimakid shrugged and chose a third option. He fished out a vial, cracked it open, and held it under the man's nose.

Levi practically jumped to his feet, and let out a loud disgusted noise. "What in the name of Father Knuckles is that?!" He nearly shrieked, shuffling as far away from Leimakid as possible.

"Essence of durian," the young Herbalist replied, re-pocketing the vial. He decided not to mention that the durians were fed on Flames (Gargouille's Flames to be exact) so that they would produce the most foul stench possible.

Upon realizing where he was and what was around him, the Lightning Officer began panicking. "Noooooooo! STAY AWAY!" Levi cried out, pulling out one of his parabolas. He swung it around wildly at the cake hoard surrounding him until it finally made contact with one of the dive bombing entremets. The impact sent the fist-size flying treat into Belphegor's wide open mouth who was suddenly cut off mid-shout by the cake.

Belphegor chewed thoughtfully and swallowed, "Huh, they actually taste divine."

Squalo blinked. "Wait, they're edible?! Voi, round them all up and stuff yourselves with them!"

"You got it, Squ-chan!" Lussuria yelled back, snatching up three at once.

However, the Storm Officer turned green. "Ulp...There's a revolution inside of the royal stomach…" Belphegor whimpered before vomiting out an absurd amount of mousse that one fist-sized dessert shouldn't possess.

Everyone stopped and waited with bated breath for even more of the entremets to be spawned from the mess...

...But nothing happened.

"Muu, this is just my guess, but it looks like consumption removes the Flames that gave it life in the first place," Mammon suggested.

"Hari-chan. What did you put in those things?" Lussuria asked, staring down cautiously at the cakes he just caught.

"Apple and soft cheese mousse, sponge cake, cranberry nappage, and…" Hadrian trailed off after realizing that the Sun Officer might not like what was next.

" _And?!_ " The martial artist demanded.

"...S-Sun and Cloud Flames," the Cloudy-Sky finished reluctantly.

"HARI-CHAN!" Lussuria wailed. "WHOSE FLAMES?!"

"Err… ours?"

"HARI-CHAN! _THAT'S_ WHY YOU ASKED FOR A SAMPLE OF MY FLAMES?!"

"I needed them to make the cakes! Even if I had already done all the prep work before the competition, the entremets take more than two lousy hours without Flames!" Hadrian protested.

No wonder Belphegor nearly exploded after eating just one. The one Belphegor accidently ate must have tried to multiply in a last ditch attempt to escape before Hadrian's Flames were leached out of their system.

"So one down," Squalo said before grimacing at the swarm, "...several baker's dozens and that fucking behemoth to go."

After watching the Varia running around like headless chickens for several minutes, Gargouille had enough. With a heavy sigh, he got up from his seat and reached into his leg pouch for his collapsible sword. "Well now, watching them is getting a bit dull. Are you coming, Scarface?"

Hadrian merely raised an eyebrow and hummed. He also got up from his seat and then launched himself at the cake castle monstrosity with a large butcher knife he had appropriated from his cooking station. While the cake sculpture's attention was solely concentrated on eating Mammon for the umpteenth time, Hadrian took the opportunity to cut off its arm, saving the Mist Arcobaleno from having another swim through layers of crème.

He frowned when he saw that the wound he had created became good as new in just a few moments. It looked like it was going to take more than just Cloud Flames to hack away at his opponent.

"Why didn't you two jump in earlier?!" Leimakid complained to the two teens, literal waterfalls of tears comically pouring out from his tear ducts. He had forgotten My Little Friend at home so the situation is a hundred times worse for him.

"My tea went cold," Hadrian deadpanned.

Gargouille, on the other hand, simply shrugged. "I wanted to observe what happens when I use muscovado sugar and compare it to coconut sugar. My conclusions: muscovado makes them significantly slower than molasses, more intelligent than maple sugar, and more violent than grape sugar."

"Well, if you've got all the data you need from it, can you please tell us how to kill this thing?!"

"..."

"...You don't know, do you?"

"...I knew I had forgotten something."

For answer, Vardøger opted to use sign language to convey his exact thoughts towards Gargouille at the moment. He held up both fists, palm-side facing towards him, and raised the third digit of each hand: the universally understood sign for "fuck you."

"Forget it! We've got Hadrian's flying murder cakes! You two deal with Gary's Cake-zilla!" Leimakid shouted, ducking to dodge three entremets heading towards him.

"STOP CALLING ME GARY!" Gargouille yelled back.

"Cake-zilla?" Hadrian repeated with confusion before shrugging and just rolled with it. Just calling the damn thing "sponge cake sculpture monster" got tiring after a while.

"FOR THE BOSS AND THE VARI-Oof!" Levi's war cry was cut off after the (now newly dubbed) Cake-zilla knocked him away, sending him careening into the walls of the stadium. A few of his parabolas got stuck in a few of Cake-zilla's many elongated rolls while he was charging up his attack.

"Oh, for fuck's sake! LEVI, I'LL BE BORROWING THAT!" Hadrian groaned as he ran at the Cake-zilla, using his improved agility to avoid its attacks to get close. The teen took the brief window of opportunity to yank out one of Levi's abandoned parabolas and quickly jump away from one of Cake-zilla's swatting arms.

Once Hadrian was a decent distance away, he reached deep into his pool of Flames and let his Sky Flames coat the parabola and release it at the sponge roll monstrosity. Rather than throwing it like a lance, the Flame-covered parabola snapped open and spun around not unlike a chainsaw. The parabola traveled in a wide arc, slicing off one of its arms and boomeranged back to Hadrian, who effortlessly caught it by the handle.

Hadrian smirked triumphantly when he saw his opponent roar in anger at the loss of one of its arms. "Wow, it's a little too heavy for my tastes, but I could get used to using a weaponized umbrella," he said, hefting the weapon over his shoulder.

"HEY! GET YOUR OWN PARABOLA!" The Lightning Officer complained loudly as he stumbled out of the Levi-sized hole he had made.

Cake-zilla let out an enraged roar at its lost appendage as it honed in on Hadrian. With its attention fully on the Cloudy-Sky teen, the others could focus on the entremet mob. Gargouille decided he'd lend his old school rival a hand and confronted his creation. Things were going well at first, with both boys whittling away at Cake-zilla one piece at a time. Unfortunately, they hadn't foreseen the living cake roll castle amassing a vast amount of crème and spewing it at its targets. First, it hit Hadrian, who was then thrown back into Gargouille, who also got caught up in the stream of pressurized crème. The force of the attack sent the two of them out of the stadium and crashing into the next building over.

"Ugh… Where in the fucking hell are we?" Gargouille groaned.

"I could be wrong, but I think we're inside the Iron Fort," Hadrian said as he picked himself up and struggled to get back on his feet. The Vongola fortress was located deep within a forest so unless someone had suddenly decided to build a house within the last several hours, it was unlikely that they could be anywhere else.

Gargouille whipped his head towards him so fast Hadrian swore he heard a sickening crack coming from his abused neck bones. " _No_ ," the Potioneer breathed.

This was a horrible situation to him. Gargouille had agreed to move to Italy with his fellow former Bloodless because he'd figured they could live in relative peace as neutral Flame Users. He didn't want to gain the attention of any Famiglia. At least, nothing negative. The last thing he wanted was for a major Famiglia like the Vongola to want to decide to destroy them because they had accidentally broken into their headquarters.

"No. No no no no no no. Non! Nein! Nyet! All the words expressing my denial in every language in the world!" Gargouille chanted, growing more and more hysterical with every syllable.

"What are you getting so worked up about?" Hadrian drawled.

"Do you not see the urgency of the situation we're in?! Even if we get out of this alive, who knows what the Vongola will do to us for breaking into their _most secure location_!"

"In that case, I'd retort that this incident comes to show that they were long overdue for an upgrade in security."

Realizing quickly that he wouldn't get anywhere with the black-haired teen, Gargouille let out an inhuman noise as he began pulling on his hair. "What is _fucking wrong with you_?! Are you suicidal or something? How in Morgana's milky fresh tits are you so damn _relaxed_ about _everything_?!"

 **CRASH!**

With a mighty roar, Cake-zilla had made itself known.

"You know what?! _FUCK IT ALL_! I might as well get a bit of stress relief out of all this chaos!" Gargouille roared, his pent up frustration taking over him. He had abandoned his previously precise and disciplined fighting style in favour of attacking his creation in a feral, unpredictable berserker-like frenzy.

Hadrian followed suit. He noticed that the new environment was forcing him to change up his attack patterns. Before the wide open field of the stadium allowed him to maneuver around his opponent. Now in a more confined space like the hidden passageways of the Iron Fort, Hadrian needed to make his attacks count as he couldn't afford to play around with Cake-zilla like he had in an effort to locate its weaknesses. Besides, he had already gleaned all the information he needed. Hadrian now knew its attack patterns, its blind spots, and when its guard was weak. All he had to do was take advantage of them all.

His Sky Flames seemed to have a "neutralizing" property, eliminating Cake-zilla's regeneration factor altogether. Between the two of them, Hadrian and Gargouille didn't have the means to create some sort of large-scale, singular attack that could permanently neutralize the cake monster. But they did have one strategy.

Hadrian was to whittle away at Cake-zilla using his Sky Flames while Gargouille targeted the same area, disintegrating a good chunk of that part with a vengeance. In the end, the final confrontation with Cake-zilla took about another thirty minutes of running around and slicing away at the Frankenstein Cooking sculpture. When everything was said and done, Gargouille and Hadrian were both dead on their feet and covered in whipped cream residue and bits of sponge cake.

"Fucking finally!" Gargouille sighed with relief. "As exhausting as that was, dismantling a giant cake monster is unexpectedly a _very_ therapeutic endeavor." One less problem threatening to turn his newly grown head of blond hair gray before he was out of his teenage years.

 **CRACKLE!**

"...Did you hear that?" Hadrian asked the blond cautiously.

The sound sounded like it came from below their feet. Both teens slowly looked down to see the floor riddled with deep cracks. Before they could so much as move another inch, the floor gave away, sending the two boys down into the room below.

"Scarhead? Are you dead?" Gargouille said, staggering to his feet and looking around and wondering where the other teen had gone.

"No, but the person who put this thing here will be," Hadrian groaned as he tried to get up. The teen had landed uncomfortably on what appeared to be an elaborate crystal sculpture. It was a good thing he had his Cloud Flames working overtime to propagate his durability, otherwise he would have been skewered by the sculpture's numerous spikes.

 **CRACK!**

The "crystal statue" began rapidly crumbling under Hadrian. Thinking fast, he leapt off of the collapsing object and watched as the "crystal" broke apart and its parts slowly dissipating to reveal the unconscious form of a young man who had been trapped inside. Once freed from his prison, the man fell forward and collapsed at Hadrian's feet.

"In the nonsensical words of Kaguya, 'Fuck this shit, I'm out,'" Gargouille deadpanned as he hobbled towards the nearest exit.

Hadrian continued to awkwardly stare down at the unknown man practically face-planted on top of his cake covered shoes.

"Sweet pomegranates of Persephone! What the bloody fuck is my life?!"

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

"Um, sir-" His assistant began.

In a flash, Ottavio grabbed his subordinate by the neck, choking off whatever sentence they were about to utter. With a quick twist followed by a sickening snap, he broke their neck. The Cloud Officer then released his grip, dropping the body in a graceless heap on the office floor.

"...Anyone else?" Ottavio deadpanned.

Nobody dared to so much as _breath_.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

"I never want to eat another cake again," Belphegor mumbled. His stomach rumbled again, and the Storm Officer had to hold back another wave of nausea.

"I never want to _see_ another cake again," Levi shuddered, stumbling alongside his fellow Officers in a glassy-eyed daze. He had cake residue in places he didn't know cake could get into.

"I never want to _fight_ another cake again," Squalo complained. His long hair was completely covered in mousse and crème. It was going to take an entire _day_ of showering to get rid of the stuff.

"I want a raise in my salary and an early bonus!" Mammon snarled in the Rain Officer's ear. They lost count of how many times they almost _drowned_ in mousse and crème because of their small size.

The Sun Officer was about to tack on his own retort, but he spotted a familiar figure approaching them. "Oh, Hari-chan~! You're back! So how did-" The rest of Lussuria's sentence died the moment he laid eyes on the unconscious figure hanging off of his petite friend.

For the second time since Squalo met Hadrian, the Rain Officer was silent as a grave. Mammon nearly fell off of their perch on his shoulder. Belphegor's eyebrows had risen so high his eyes could almost be seen through his thick bangs. The previously zombified Levi practically sprang back to life and started weeping in happiness.

"So yeah, funny story. Guess what the hidden prize for winning the cooking competition is," Hadrian awkwardly joked, as he adjusted the comatose Xanxus to a more comfortable position on his back.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

Cleaning up the aftermath of the cooking competition was a nightmare and a half. Not only did the Vongola have to fix up the Iron Fort, but they also had to demolish the stadium. And that's not to mention having to deal with the onslaught of complaints coming from the Bosses who attended the event. The paperwork alone nearly reached the ceiling of Timoteo's office at one point.

As for what happened to Gargouille, Leimakid, and Vardøger…

All three had disappeared without a trace shortly after Cake-zilla was destroyed. However, no one has been able to locate them ever since. Even the place where their store was located was empty. (Mammon began charging three times _everything_ their usual prices over the lost opportunity.)

On the bright side (at least on the Varia's end), Xanxus was miraculously defrosted. The news caused pandemonium to erupt in Varia HQ. By the time what happened to Xanxus had reached the Nono's ears, all they could do was damage control. Besides, it wasn't like they could just put Xanxus back on ice now that news of him being defrosted had spread all throughout Italy. The best option for them to take was to pretend that it was planned and let speculations take care of things.

And so, Xanxus was allowed to recuperate without interruptions in the Varia infirmary.

Despite Lussuria's best efforts, he couldn't heal the frostbite scarring Timoteo had given to his adopted son after the old man callously put his son under the Zero Point Breakthrough technique. Being frozen for eight years had done a number on Xanxus. The Sun Officer estimated that it would take at least a month of bedrest and about a year or so of physical therapy for his Boss to be back at full strength.

Needless to say, Xanxus, in all his pissed off stubbornness, did not like his Sun Officer's verdict he was given upon regaining consciousness and proceeded to raise as much hell as he could while still stuck in bed and too weak to so much as sit up on his own.

Unable to completely handle so much on his plate, Lussuria begged Hadrian to lend a hand by tasking his friend to handle Xanxus's dietary needs. Hadrian happily did so, but he would later regret accepting, even if it was to help a close friend in need.

The young chef had his hands full trying to find a meal that would shut the spoiled brat of a man up. Half the time, Xanxus would get angry at some slight and toss his food at whoever his ire was aimed towards. The other half consisted of him taking a few bites before declaring the dish to be unsuitable for his palate. Frankly, it was a miracle that the Varia Boss didn't die or have his recovery time set back due to malnutrition. If it wasn't for the fact that Xanxus was Lussuria's Sky and Boss, Hadrian would have slipped two cherry pits into the bedridden Varia Head's next serving of porridge.

About a week into Xanxus's awakening, Hadrian began running into some major issues. Someone who had gotten bored with living had the bright idea to ruin all the food in the Varia refrigerator. Everything was not only spoiled, but to his horror, Hadrian also found out that someone had deliberately introduced _motherfucking black mold_ to the kitchen, meaning that he couldn't even so much as _think_ of picking up a kitchen knife until the entire area was put under quarantine and every last nook and cranny was completely sanitized and disinfected.

Hadrian then proceeded to hunt down the culprit responsible with a vengeance. Of course, it wasn't just one person but a whole group that was involved. A dozen Cloud mooks, four Suns, six Rains, two Storms, and the one Mist who had thought up the whole "prank" in the first place.

One by one, they were slowly picked off. Their bodies were later found propped up like scarecrows on the rooftops, gutted and stuffed with goat cheese. Flies and maggots had long taken hold of them, turning them into casu marzu cadavers.

The former Wizard would later learn that Ottavio had ordered some of his supporters to sabotage Hadrian's efforts to speed up Xanxus's recovery as much as they could. From what Hadrian had observed, Ottavio wasn't even upset that he had just effortlessly taken down a good chunk of Ottavio's minions. But whether or not he showed any concern over what Hadrian was capable of still remained to be seen.

Currently, Hadrian was on his way back to Varia HQ from an emergency food run to replace all the spoiled ingredients when something caught his eye and made him stop.

It was a young girl with light blonde hair twisted into two loops and pinned back on the top of her head standing in his path with her back towards him. For some reason, his Cloudy-Sky Flames reacted strongly towards the mysterious girl. There was a painfully longing feeling burning in the deepest depths of Hadrian's being. His Flames wanted to reach out, but they immediately shied away at the last moment as though they felt that they didn't deserve to get any closer.

"Ciao, Mio Re," the girl chirped happily as she slowly turned towards Hadrian and began approaching him with a bounce on her steps.

Hadrian had to do a double-take. There was no mistaking who she was now.

"Lu- _Kaguya_?" The former-Wizard whispered in shock.

There, slowly walking towards him with her arms outstretched invitingly for an embrace, was Luna Lovegood, or Kaguya Tsukihime as she now went by, according to Leimakid. He'd recognized her anywhere. That particular pale blonde shade of hair, those delicate fae-like features, and the perpetual dreamy glaze in her silvery blue eyes. She was even wearing her signature radish earrings and cork bottle necklace that she claimed protected her from "Nargles."

However, there was a cloudiness in those dreamy eyes that Hadrian didn't remember being there the last time he saw her. The way she was staring at them, not directly at his person but rather in his general direction. Even the way she moved seemed off. Every gesture was noticeably slow and careful, filled with uncertainty as though the former Witch was unsure of her surroundings.

It then hit Hadrian. The cold realization slapped him in the face. How and when did she lose her sight?!

Just as the blonde was about to wrap her arms around him, Hadrian quickly backed away from her. "Kaguya… Wh-What happened to your eyes?"

She merely smiled serenely at him, completely at ease despite her blindness and Hadrian's rejection of her. "Sorry, Ruler. You've kept me waiting… kept _us_ waiting… for far too long," the blonde girl sighed the last part.

A quick wave of her dainty hand and the world around Hadrian dissolved into indigo and yellow Flames. The last thing he saw was tears running down Kaguya's face.

* * *

 **Translations:**

 **Mio figlio - my son**

 **Mia Madre - my mother**

 **Mi dispiace - I'm sorry**

 **AN: RIP entremets and Cake-zilla. You only lasted pages twelve to sixteen on my Google Docs. We're coming close to the end of the Break Away Arc. If everything goes as planned, I might be able to finish up this Arc in the next chapter. I also promised that the next story arc is the Interludes Arc, but I decided to turn that into its own separate story. It's going to be about how Gargouille/Draco, Leimakid/Neville, Vardøger/Fred, Eidolon/George, and Kaguya/Luna became the people you see in this chapter. Basically, highlighting how they differ from their canon counterparts. Keep an eye out for it in the near future.**

 **I'm letting Hadrian meet his Guardians early. In the first draft, I was planning on introducing them after the Ring Battles Arc, but I wanted them to have more of a role in the story. The Cooking Competition definitely wasn't anywhere in the original draft either, but it made a good scenario to see how Hadrian could work together with his eventual Guardians. I will admit, I got the inspiration for the idea from one of my friends over on Discord. If all of you happen to be reading this, thanks for giving me the okay to plagiarize the idea~**

 **Luna's epitaph: An actual Luna quote in TOotP, I believe.**

 **Kaguya Tsukihime: Luna's new name is a reference to Kaguya-hime (or Princess Kaguya), the main character in the ancient Japanese folktale of The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter. In the story, Kaguya-hime was a princess of the Moon sent to Earth for her safety until the Celestial Beings could come and reclaim her. Hence where the surname, Tsukihime, which basically means "moon princess," comes from. I'm thinking of making this version of Luna a low-key otaku. Hopefully, I can write her as a likeable weeb instead making her go overboard.**

 **Leimakid Hyades: Leimakid is the name of a subspecies of land nymphs residing in meadows. Hyades, on the other hand, refer to a group of nymphs sired by the Titan, Atlas. In Greek mythology, they were given credit for causing rain to fall. Was I being too uncreative when I decided this will be Neville's new name?**

 **Gargouille Serpens: Draco's first name refers to a legendary dragon that Saint Romanus of Rouen killed with the help of a death row convict who had nothing to lose in embarking on the endeavor. Serpens is not only a constellation that can be seen in the northern hemisphere, but in Greek mythology, it is the serpent that is associated by the Greek god of healing and medicine, Asclepius. By the way, is it bad that I decided to make him somewhat of a perpetually stressed out mom friend?**

 **Vardøger and Eidolon Doppelgänger: The twins' surname refers to a supernatural double of a living person often depicted as a bringer of bad luck or death. Vardøger is the Scandinavian equivalent only instead of bringing death, they are more or less the embodiment of déjà vu, where the spiritual double appears or does something in advance of the living individual. Eidolon is an apparition in Greek thought. They are the spiritual image of a person, living or dead, that projects the idea that the person exists, however, they are not actually there in the first place.**

 **Dildo bat: Leimakid's weapon of choice, My Little Friend, came from the** _ **Saints Row**_ **game series. The Penetrator, as it is called, shows up in** _ **Saints Row: The Third**_ **,** _ **Saints Row: Money Shot**_ **, and** _ **Saints Row IV**_ **.**

 **Black Sugar Curse: I would like to thank my beta for helping me flesh out the mechanics behind "Frankenstein Cooking," as it is called in the story. For those of you who haven't or never read my previous draft of Acedia, Frankenstein Cooking is a condition where any dessert Hadrian makes comes to life. Although Hadrian can cook up a feast to end entire world wars, he can't make so much as make a fruit salad without it suddenly gaining the ability to** _ **breathe**_ **. A curse in exchange for his mad cooking skillz.**

 **Mammon's books: Both are canon books in the HP universe. I headcanon that Has Connections with the Wizarding World!Mammon would have dabbled in certain kinds of Magic even a Squib could use like Potions and Occlumency. Especially the latter, given that mind-related Magics would have been appealing for a Psychic Mist Illusionist.**

 **Japanese sponge roll cake: Also called Swiss roll, jelly roll, or cream roll, it's a type of sponge cake that's filled with whipped cream and fruits then rolled up. This type of cake is believed to have been invented in Austria around the nineteenth century.**

 **Entremet: Taken from Shokugeki no Soma's Autumn Leaf Viewing entremet, it's a multi-layered elaborately decorated mousse-based cake. Its origins can be traced back to medieval France when it was traditionally served in between courses.**

 **Two cherry pits: Did you know that two broken cherry pits contains enough cyanide to kill a full-grown adult?**

* * *

Omake VII: Hell Hath No Fury

"I want that man to _suffer_ ," Elena raged.

"I know, darling. How much of my Flame should I add to this?" Daemon asked as he stirred the Potion.

"Enough for the next ten generations of his descendants to feel _**my unyielding rage**_." the young woman snarled as she viciously carved out more symbols on the pentagram needed for the ritual.

Daemon sighed. After this, they were going to have to replace the entire floor. Oh, well, he never really liked mahogany in the first place.

"Blood Magic always requires an equivalent sacrifice. What is the one food we could stand to eat for the rest of our lives in order for this Curse to stick?" Elena informed her fiancé as she placed the finishing touches on the Ritual Circle.

Daemon shrugged and thought for a second. "Pineapples." Elena had been craving the exotic fruit ever since she became pregnant. It didn't hurt that he himself took a liking to pineapples since their last vacation to Brazil.

Earlier this afternoon, Elena and Daemon had gone out to a local caffé they often frequented. Elena had been craving something with chocolate so it was the place was the perfect location for Daemon to take his fiancée out on a date.

The caffé had a popular specialty cake that they only served a set amount of every day. Elena and Daemon were lucky enough to buy the last two cakes for that day. As soon as Elena took the first bite of her cake, she and her fiancé were startled by a loud, angry voice reverberating throughout the entire pastry shop.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WON'T SERVE ME MY CAKE?!" The customer bellowed at the top of his lungs. He was an older man wearing old-fashioned and very well made clothes made of highest quality of fabrics. His features would have been considered very handsome and charming, if his patrician face wasn't steadily turning an unattractive shade of purplish-red.

"I'm very sorry, sir," the server calmly replied, "The cake you ordered is a limited specialty item, and they come at a first-come-first-serve kind of deal. But we do have a system where you could reserve up to two pieces for yourself for an additional charge of one hundred lira. If you like, I can pencil you down-"

"NO! I demand that you bring me my cake NOW! I know you're lying! How could you have 'run out' when you just sold those filthy Mudbloods over at that table two of them?!" The man cried out, pointing a gloved finger directly at the bewildered Daemon and Elena.

Daemon scowled deeply. If the situation escalated, he wouldn't hesitate to shove the man into the worst illusions the Mist Flame User could think of. The man had the gall to not only threaten but also insult his beloved Elena. In fact, the reasons he hadn't done so already was because 1) they were in full view of dozens of civilians, and most importantly, 2) Elena would get angry at _him_ for bringing the Vindice on their heads.

Luckily, it never came to that because what happened next was nothing short of brilliant.

The server bristled indignantly and scowled at the rude customer. Still maintaining his composure, he coldly addressed the man, "First of all, sir, I've already told you several times before our cafe sells a limited amount of our specialty cakes. Unfortunately, we just ran out of them for today. And second, I may not know what a 'mudblood' is, but I don't have to be the world's greatest linguist to know that you just used a derogatory term. Please refrain from using that kind of language or I'll be forced to summon the police to escort you out."

But rather than backing down the customer merely scoffed, apparently dismissing the server as not a threat to him. "I want to speak to the owner. He needs to know that one of his employees is a _lazy and incompetent_ waste of space. I have been waiting for over half an hour to get service, and never have I been faced by such _insolence_ in my life."

Instead of looking panicked, apologetic, or even get angry at the rude man, the server merely _smiled_. The wide shit-eating grin promised no mercy. " _I'll have you know, sir_. I am the _co-owner_ of this establishment. My sister and I had inherited this place from our late grandparents nearly ten years ago. Since my sister is on maternity leave so she could take care of my newborn nephew, it's up to _me_ to hold down the fort. Rest assured, _dear customer_ , your complaints have been heard and we will undertake _appropriate_ actions. Now unless you wish to order a different cake that's currently in stock, please remove yourself from _my_ caffé. Once again, if you insist on continuing to cause a disturbance in my caffé, I will have you removed from my establishment. Now, if you please... you're starting to hold up the line."

The man actually sputtered. He opened his mouth, fully prepared to deliver another rant, but the server gave him a pointed look and glanced over to the door. Finally getting the message, the man stomped away, muttering curses under his breath and roughly brushed past a few people standing around in the caffé on his way towards the exit.

However, just as he had his hand on the door, he spotted Daemon and Elena from the corner of his eye. Abandoning his decision to leave the caffé, he stalked towards their table and got up in Daemon's face.

"Give that cake to me," the man demanded.

Daemon raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"It's not fair that you and your fat whore got to have two for yourselves. You can just share one of them. Now hand over your cake."

Elena's mouth dropped at the audacity of the man, and she began to see red. She was about to give this obnoxious sorry excuse of a human being a piece of her mind but was stopped when her fiancé placed his hand on hers.

' _I'll handle this_.' His gleam in his eyes seem to say. "Nufufu. I don't think so." To make his point, Daemon picked up his fork, stabbed at his previously untouched cake and made a show of taking a large bite out of it. "Hmmm. Chocolate. My darling Elena's favourite."

If possible, Daemon's actions made the man become even more angrier. With a large yell, he grabbed their table and pushed it over, sending both cakes down onto the floor and almost slamming into Elena who then fell off her chair in shock. Before anyone could do anything, the man quickly bolted away from the premise.

As if on cue, police officers had just arrived, having been summoned by the server as soon as the man began to bother the couple.

After helping his fiancée up on her feet, Daemon quickly bolted after the man, not wanting his target to get away with what he had done. Just as he was about to catch up to him, the man quickly turned the corner.

Daemon heard a loud _**CRACK**_ just as he was about to turn into an alley. Instead of finding a cornered criminal, he was met with a completely empty space between two buildings.

"Daemon!" Elena cried as she caught up to the Vongola Mist.

"He was a Wizard. Judging from his attitude and the way he was dressed, most likely an English Pureblood," Daemon surmised.

"Good."

The Mist Flame User gave his fiancée a questioning look. "Good?"

"That means I don't have to feel guilty about what I'm planning on doing next," Elena said darkly. "Arrogant, inbred English cowards."

"Nufufufufu… Need any help with your revenge, dear?"

"If you would be so kind, love~"

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

The next morning, Phineas Nigellus Black and his family woke up to find Black Manor half eaten by what they originally thought was someone's Animation Charm experiment gone wrong. In the weeks that followed, they finally figured out, to their horror, that anything that consisted of so much as a grain of sugar came to life and proceeded to attack them. This unknown Curse continued to persist throughout the generations. Only Phineas and his next Heads of the Black Family were spared from the Curse plaguing them thanks to the numerous of Magical Protective Spells placed upon the Black Lordship Ring. Unfortunately, those who had inherited the Black Family Magicks weren't so lucky.

With their ancestral home destroyed, the House of Black had no choice but to move. After finding a large Muggle house located in 12 Grimmauld Place, they forcibly evicted its previous residents and made the house their own. Since then, the manor has been inhabited by the following generations of Blacks.

Phineas would go down as the least liked Headmaster in Hogwarts's history, not for his Pureblood Supremacist dogma, but rather, for his castle-wide sugar ban. (What most didn't know was that the move was for his and his descendants' safety more than anything.) The edict lasted until his death in 1925 and his successor, Armando Dippet, finally removed his ban. (By then, the Black Sugar Curse, as it came to be privately known amongst members of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, had significantly weakened enough for the sugar ban to not make a difference anymore.)

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

(~200 years later)

"ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!" James yelled.

"Not at the moment," Remus quipped.

"Ha! Good one, Moony," Sirius chuckled before turning back to his best friend. "Face it, James. You're just as much a Black as me. Looks like Aunt Dorea's blood runs strong in you."

The reason for James's frustrations was currently gnawing at his leg. One moment he was decorating a birthday cake that was meant to be a surprise for Lily. Just as he was about to put on the candles, the strawberry cake with vanilla frosting and rainbow sprinkles came alive and immediately draped itself over him.

"Where'd Peter go? He was just here a moment ago," James asked as he tried to push his creation off only for his arms to sink elbow deep into the mess of white frosting for his troubles.

"He bolted as soon as Lily's… uh, blob latched onto your leg," Sirius explained.

"Never mind. Can you two help get this thing off of me before Lily comes back from her girls' night out with Alice and Andy? I need to hurry and find a place to hide. She's going to kill me when she finds out this thing ate her favourite mug."

"Oooh, the one with the baby owls?" Remus winced. "Good luck with your wife, Prongs. Given her mood swings as of late, let's hope your time on the couch doesn't last the rest of your life."

Later that evening, James learned an important lesson his maternal ancestor should have learned a long time ago:

Never anger a pregnant woman. If you do, do yourself a favour and go to the nearest undertaker to prepare your coffin.

* * *

 **AN: So an entitled Pureblood dick walked into a cafe and got himself Cursed by a melon head's angry waifu. Since then, the guy's descendants have been feeling his pain. I have been listening to way too many narrations of r/entitledpeople and r/nuclearrevenge stories on YouTube as of late.**

 **Witch!Elena: Before anyone asks, she's a Muggleborn aristocrat with a healthy appreciation with Curses and Ritual Magic. Daemon is "in the know" because he's her boy toy and a Flame User. Doesn't hurt that the Italian Ministry of Magic treats the Mafia World like they're their own separate supernatural society. As a result, Magical Italy has fairly lax laws on how they uphold the Statute of Secrecy in comparison to say America and the United Kingdom on due to how close the Mafia World works with the Civilian/Muggle World. You can tell your Muggle best friend or favorite third cousin you're a Witch or Wizard, but it's a "they have to join our society and keep the mention of Magic on the down low, or they lose any and all memory of you" type of deal.**

 **To wrap up this chapter, please divert some of your love and appreciation towards blackkat1325. Thank you so much for sticking with me as my beta despite my long stretches of inactivity.**

 **Thank you all for reading this reboot~! Any and all reviews, favorites, and follows are appreciated~! ( ͡** **ꈍ** **͜ʖ̫ ͡** **ꈍ** **)**


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